


Behind These Yellow Eyes

by Everybody_Loves_Lucifer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everybody_Loves_Lucifer/pseuds/Everybody_Loves_Lucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Go marathon up to the season three finale. Once you finish that episode, come and read this. Dean is never rescued from hell by Cas. Sam has had to move on with his life. He has made it up to the third trial from the demon tablet to close the gates of Hell. When he and Cas try to capture a demon, they run into a familiar face that leaves Sam in shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this before the season 9 finale. This is the first fanfiction that I have ever written. so I apologize in advance if it's absolutely terrible. ALL COPYRIGHT WARNINGS APPLY.

It's been years. Years since Sam couldn't save his brother. He couldn't save Dean from the pit. And everyday he hates himself for it. Feels like he failed the only person he could really trust with his life. His big brother. His only friend; at the time anyway. But they were going to pay. All those sons of bitches who took Dean away. Trapped him in Hell and tortured him. At least, that's what Sam thought was happening down there, it's called "Hell" for a reason right? "SAM!" Kevin barked, pulling him from his train of thought. "Are you even listening to me?"   
"Of course I am, 'To cure a demon.' That's the third trial. I get that, but how exactly am I going to cure a demon? We don't even know what I have to cure them of." Sam replied.   
"Well, maybe the Men of Letters have something about it in one of their files. We're not going to figure it out if you don't help me. Grab a chair and stack of books. I thought you liked to research this stuff?" Kevin questioned.   
"Nobody likes research." He replied bluntly. Sam reached for some folders. Dust fell from the papers, surrounding the air around him. He sat opposite of Kevin at the table. He was willing to help because he needed to get his mind off of Dean. He hadn't thought about Dean in a long time, always forcing his big brother from his mind to avoid the pain. But for the past couple of months he couldn't keep himself side tracked. With Sam completing the trials, Dean had been contaminating his thoughts for too long now. After all, if he closed the gates of Hell, how would he be able to save Dean?   
"Maybe Cas knows something?" Kevin wondered aloud. He was right. Cas probably would know something about this. Sam stood up from the table and began pacing the length of the room.   
"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here." Suddenly surrounded by wind and flying papers, Sam turned slowly, examining the room for his friend. There he stood, behind Kevin. He was wearing his trench coat and suit as always, but he also had a slightly annoyed facial expression.  
"I really do wish you would stop praying to me that way."  
"Sorry, but we need your help. I'm sure you know this already, but Kevin translated the third trial." Sam said.  
"I did know that, but what do you need me for?" Castiel asked curiously.   
"We were wondering what you thought about it, what it means. Do the angels know anything about curing demons?" asked Kevin.   
"Curing them of what?"  
"That's where we got stumped too." Sam said. Feeling a small ache in his mind, Sam sat back down at the table.  
"You don't look well, Sam." Castiel stated.   
"Thanks, Cas." He replied sarcastically. Sam knew he looked ill, he figured it was part of the trials and decided to ignore most of his symptoms. But sometimes the migraines were a little too much to handle.   
"I didn't mean that as a compliment. What's wrong?" said Cas, a small hint of worry tainting his voice.   
"You really need to learn sarcasm. I figure it's part of the trials. They're purifying me and I have to deal with it. You know, play through the pain." he replied. Cas and Kevin exchanged glances of concern. They both knew Sam had been pushing too hard when it came to closing the gates of Hell, and a human being could only take so much. Even if his last name is Winchester. "Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." Sam stood up, feeling extremely light headed, and walked to his room.  
He really didn't want to see his friends worry about him. As he lay down on the soft sheets and pillows of his bed, he put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Letting his mind wander was dangerous because he knew where it would end up. Dean. What had happened to him? Was he still in Hell? If he wasn't, why hadn't he found Sam? If he was, would he even be the same Dean he was five years ago? Ruby said every demon had once been human. Then they were sent to Hell and had their humanity burned away. What if the same thing...? No. Sam wouldn't let his mind venture that far. There wasn't the slightest chance he would even consider that possibility. His brother was stronger than most. He would never give in, never become what they hunted, what they hated. He dwelled in his memories. That first day, when Dean came to Stanford because John had gone missing. Sam had told him that he was done with hunting for good. But, he was convinced to go anyway. The house rule, "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Sam smiled when he thought of that. The accident after he let Yellow Eyes go rather than kill his own father. How broken Dean had been after their dad had made the deal and been taken. His smile faded. "Why were you smiling?" Cas asked. He was standing in the doorway, just watching. It seems odd to smile at a time like this." Sam sighed and sat up slowly. His headache had lessened, but his body felt as if it might implode.  
"I was just thinking about something." Cas stared straight into Sams eyes. Sometimes Sam could swear Cas wasn't looking at him, but right into his soul, his very being. A chill ran up his spine and he quickly changed the topic. "Why are you in here, did Kevin find something?" Cas eyed him curiously, but decided not to pursue Sams thoughts.  
"Yes, he found a small movie clip. He thinks it might help you."  
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sam rose from his sitting position, a little unsteady on his feet, and started his stride in the direction of where he had left Kevin.


	2. Chapter 2

As he entered the main room of the bunker, Sam saw that Kevin had set up and old movie projector at the end of the table. He was sitting by it attaching the film when he looked up and saw Sam. "Oh, hey. I found this in one of the files. It was labeled 'Father Thompson' and had 'weird' with three exclamation points written next to it. But I think it'll help us. Well, it might, it could be completely useless...".   
"Don't over sell it Kev." Sam replied  
"Sorry. How about we just watch the clip." Kevin suggested.   
"Sounds like a plan." Sam pulled a chair over to him. He sat down, stretching his legs far out in front of him. Cas decided to make popcorn. He grabbed the bowl and sat behind Kevin. It took a moment for him to figure out how to get the projector working, but once it was in motion they all relaxed a bit and rested their eyes upon the screen.  
The film wasn't really a film at all. It was a recording of a priest and what seemed to be a demon chained to the floor. "Those chains are like the ones we have in the dungeon." stated Sam.  
"You have a dungeon?" said Castiel, sounding astounded. The room the demon was in looked like a prison. It had cement floors and some walls had an enormous cross painted onto them. A devils trap was in the middle of the room. Sam stared curiously at the screen. The priest walked to the table in the room and lifted a syringe in his hand. He began speaking.  
"My subject is Peter Kent. Mr. Kent is the father of two young sons, and three weeks ago, he was possessed by a demon." The demon hissed viciously as Father Thompson removed the mask that was hiding its face. It's eyes were black and Sam could tell it was terrified.  
"I'm going to ask you a question now. When you crawled into Mr. Kent, and ate his children, how did it feel?" The demon smiled wickedly and chuckled.  
"Orgasmic." it replied. The priest just stared. Then he nodded slowly and raised the needle. He jammed the syringe into the demons neck and it began to scream in agony.  
"The first dose has been administered."  
"Do we know what Father Thompson was dosing number one dad up with?" Sam inquired.  
"His own purified blood." replied Kevin, sounding as if he might vomit.  
"Purified how?"  
"Before he started, he went to confession." They turned back to the clip. Father Thompson began to speak again.  
"Trial nineteen, hour two." He stepped toward the demon, holding a replenished syringe of blood. Staring into the demon eyes he asked, "When you ate his children, how did it feel?"  
"STRINGY!" The demon lurched forward as if to attack the priest, but the chains pulled him back to his knees. Father Thompson stuck the needle into its neck and sent the blood coursing through the demons body. Misery and pain were overthrowing the demons expressions. As it screamed, the priest returned to the table. This went on for several hours. The demon screaming and the priest asking the same question, like a broken record. Then finally, after the seventh injection, the demon roared, "STOP!" Sam and Kevin were on the edge of their seats. Cas was the only one without expression. The clip fell silent as Father Thompson just stood in front of the evil being. The demons eyes faded from black to normal human eyes showing dark brown iris'.  
"Hour eight. The subject is prepped." Father Thompson splattered holy water onto the creature. It sizzled and burned. Then fell sideways in cries of pain. Both the demon and Father Thompson looked exhausted. The priest dragged himself back to the table a final time and picked up a knife. He slid the blade across his palm and let blood pool into it. He turned and knelt by the demon on the floor. "Exorcizamus te omnis immudus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra, lustra!" He clamped his bloody hand over the demons mouth. "LUSTRA!" Sam heard the muffled scream of the demon and suddenly the creatures eyes were bursting with a bright white light. Father Thompson removed his hand and they both fell to the ground.  
Moments later, the priest raised his body. He grasped on the demon shoulders and lifted it to match his eye level. Father Thompson spoke very clearly. "When you ate his children, how did it feel?"  
"They were screaming... And I laughed. Why did I laugh? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The demon covered his face with his hands. "God, I was a monster."  
"But now you are a man again. And you have been saved." The film ran out and the screen went white.  
The bunker was silent, the three couldn't believe what they had just seen. Kevin was the first to speak. "Did he just... cure a demon?"  
"Maybe." replied Sam. "Is there anyway we could test this ourselves?"  
"Um, I mean, I have the exorcism right here. All you would have to find is the blood, consecrated ground, and a demon."  
"There's a powerful demon close by." Cas spoke as if he were unsure about the whole situation. "I can feel it."   
"How close?" asked Sam intensely.  
"Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, we don't even know if this is going to work." stated Kevin. Sam stood and took a few steps toward the door to leave. Castiel appeared in front of him instantly and he flinched back. Sam returned his gaze to Kevin.  
"No, I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not, but we still have to try. We can't let anymore people be killed by demons. We can't cure a demon if we don't have one to cure." Sam looked from Cas to Kevin, trying to figure out what they were thinking. Their faces were blank as they stared back.  
"Sam's right." said Kevin after a moment. He looked at Cas and shrugged. "If you go with him, we could get this done faster. Even if you don't go, he's still going to try." Cas sighed.  
"The demon is in an abandoned building by a river. It will take three hours to get there in your car."  
"I thought you said it was close?" said Sam.  
"That's the one closest to the bunker."  
"Fine, I guess we don't really have a choice. I'll get the car ready." Sam walked out of the room. Preparing himself for the upcoming battle.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was fifteen minutes away when Cas decided to pop into the Impala. Sam was startled at first but relaxed, realizing who it was. He had been blasting some music. Though when Cas appeared the car had gone silent. "You really shouldn't listen to music that loud. It could damage your hearing." Cas declared. Sam rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.  
"Are they any other demons I should know about before we get there?" asked Sam.  
"No. There's only one. Which is strange, considering how powerful it appears to be."  
"If it's so strong, why is it just sitting in an abandoned building? Why isn't it out causing chaos?"  
"I don't know." Cas squinted his eyes slightly and stared out the window.  
"What is it?"  
"This doesn't make sense. Any of it. It just seems... out of place." Sam didn't reply because he didn't know what to say. None of what Cas was saying was particularly comforting.  
They pulled up to the building and got out of the Impala. Sam walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. He grabbed the demon blade, and a flask of holy water. After he closed the trunk, he stared at the building. It was an old factory. Some windows were broken, others were boarded up or spray painted black. It was a chipped yellow-brown color with a flat roof. It had obviously been empty for years.  
"Sam. I was wrong. There are more demons inside." Cas looked at the building and turned to face Sam. "About four, and the stronger one has vanished."  
"So there's a slight change of plans. We still need a demon though. I'll just take one of the weaker ones." Cas looked worried. Sam could tell he didn't like this plan in the slightest, but it had to be done. He began to walk towards the building. Once the both of them reached the door, he yanked it open and they stepped inside.   
The place smelled revolting. A mix between sulfur and rotting flesh. The ground was concrete and stained with blood. Giant, rusted metal pillars stood in lines on each side of the room. Sam was ready to attack anything that came near him or his friend. What he wasn't expecting, was a demon to jump on him from the catwalk lining the upper part of the building. He fell to the ground, but managed to throw the demon off him. He jumped to his feet and faced the being. This demon was possessing a woman. The woman had medium length, dark mahogany colored hair. She was wearing a dark blue v-neck, long-sleeved shirt with dark skinny jeans and black heeled boots. Her eyes were a solid black. She couldn't be more than twenty-five. The woman snarled and pounced forward. Sam leaped to his right, he almost wasn't fast enough. Her nails grazed his cheek and he felt a trickle of blood run down his jaw line. The woman came at him again and he managed to grab her arm. He swung his fist at her skull and landed a hard punch to her temple. She fell to the ground and lay there for a moment.Her eyes were a solid black. She couldn't be more than twenty-five. The woman snarled and pounced forward. Sam leaped to his right, he almost wasn't fast enough. Her nails grazed his cheek and he felt a trickle of blood run down his jaw line. The woman came at him again and he managed to grab her arm. He swung his fist at her skull and landed a hard punch to her temple. She fell to the ground and lay there for a moment.  
Sam looked up to see Cas with his angle blade hilt deep in the chest of a large man. Castiel was expressionless but the mans mouth was open as if he were going to scream. His eyes lit up white and his body slumped to the ground. He fell beside what appeared to be another body. The woman Sam had left on the concrete close by lifted herself up onto her elbows. She began to crawl away when Sam yanked her back by her ankles. He pulled her off the ground and pinned her hands behind her back. He pressed the demon blade to her throat. "Well, isn't this a treat!" A voice boomed throughout the entire structure. Sam knew that voice, he could never forget it. He instantly pivoted on his heel, dragging the demon woman with him. His eyes scanned the building, from top to bottom, looking for the source.  
There he was. Just standing in the middle of the room. His arms crossed and a grin splitting his face. Dean. Sam was frozen. His stomach dropped and his voice was gone. All he could do was stare. "Man, it's good to be back!" Dean stepped towards Sam but Cas materialized before him, blocking his path.  
"Sam, this isn't Dean, not really."  
"Wha-what do you mean?" Sam couldn't move his eyes. He felt dizzy, like he was going to collapse. His grip on the blade lessened and the demon woman managed to spin out of Sams grasp. As this happened, Sam dropped the demon blade to the ground at his feet. The woman stood there for a moment. Just looking back and forth from Dean to Sam. She grinned and let out a scoff, then black smoke exploded from her mouth. The smoke crashed though a window and the body lay still on the ground. Ignoring the fact he just lost his chance to capture a demon, Sam continued. "Cas, what do you mean?!"  
"Oh, I'll tell you what it means." Dean said firmly. "It means that I'm not the brother you remember. Not even by half."  
"Sam, I hoped it would never come to this." Cas sounded ashamed, but Sam couldn't figure out why.  
"You know, this is your fault Cas. No need to feel guilty though. It's always the thought that counts." Dean stepped sideways past Castiel and in moments he was only an arms reach away from his little brother. Sam felt uneasy about this whole situation. Something was just off about Dean. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't good. He took a shaky step back. "What's the matter, little brother? Didn't miss me?" Dean had a maniacal smirk plastered to his face as he took a step closer to Sam. Castiel suddenly had a hand on Deans shoulder. He whipped him around and pounded his fist into Deans jaw. All Dean did was laugh. He looked up and blood began to drip down his chin. Dean grabbed two fist fulls of the angels trench coat and threw him to the other side of the large room.  
Without realizing what he was doing, Sam yanked Dean around so they were facing each other. He raised his arm and violently brought his elbow down. It struck the side of Deans head, crushing his ear. He fell sideways and landed on his hands and knees. Sam sent a strong kick to his brothers stomach, which made him roll a few feet and topple over. Dean lay on his back with a hand on his stomach, laughing. "Please tell me that's not ALL you brought to this reunion!" He jumped to his feet. Blood was draping the side of his face. Sam reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the flask. Dean began walking towards him. Sam unscrewed the cap and flung the contents of the metal container onto his brother.  
Deans skin sizzled and burned at the touch of the holy water, but he didn't flinch. He just kept walking towards Sam. "You're not Dean." He stated.  
"Au contraire." He said grinning. "I'm what's left of Dean. What managed to escape the pit."  
"You're lying." Sam glanced behind the demon, looking for Castiel. He was nowhere to be found, which brought relief and concern. He began backing away from the evil creature.  
"You know, I really missed this body. Much more sturdy than the other meat suits I've burned through." Step by step the demon was enclosing on it's victim. "And believe it or not, but I missed you too Sammy. Missed my pain-in-the-ass little brother." Sams back hit the wall. He thought about leaping to grab the demon blade, but could he really bring himself to use it?  
Out of nowhere, Castiel appeared behind Dean. He grabbed the demons shoulders and forced him to fall backwards onto the ground. Dean looked up at the angel. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."  
"I don't joke." replied Cas. Then, he raised his leg and brought his foot crushing down onto Deans face.


	4. Chapter 4

Slowly regaining consciousness, Dean raised his head. Instantly he could tell he was chained to a chair. He guessed he was inside a devils trap too. Lazily opening his eyes, he glanced at his surroundings. The room was dark, almost pitch black, and cold. It felt abnormally small though, like he was locked in a closet. There was only one source of light, a thin white line, coming from underneath what he suspected was a door. As far as Dean could tell, he was alone. He let a long sigh escape him.   
He tried lifting his hands , but the chains kept them pinched against the arms of the chair. He ached all over. His head, especially, felt like it went twelve rounds with a block of cement. There was a great creaking noise as the doors before him opened. Light flooded the room and Dean raised his gaze to the silhouette in the doorway. The shadow moved out of the light and came into focus. It was Castiel. As he came further into the room the doors behind him closed and Dean couldn't help but smirk. "You maggots are so terrified that you won't even keep the door open. I'm sorry, I just find that funny considering you're the one who did this to me." Cas was as emotionless and still as a marble statue.  
"None of this was meant to happen." He stared quizzically at Dean. "I truly am sorry."  
"Yeah, whatever." mumbled Dean. The doors opened again and Sam came marching in; demon blade in hand. He turned and closed the doors behind him with a loud rattle. For several moments the room had fallen silent. So quiet you could hear Kevin pacing in the room on the other side of the door. A menacing idea began to blossom in the back of Deans mind.  
"What have you done with my brother?"  
"I'm your brother." Sam clenched the knife tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Dean noticed and grinned. "Getting a tad frustrated, are we?"  
"Where is he!?" Rage was snatching the rest of Sams self control away from him.   
"I'm sitting right in front of you! God! You just won't take demon for an answer, will you?!" Sam lurched forward and held the blade to Deans neck. Cas put a hand on Sams shoulder, willing him to take a step back. Sam rotated his head to look at Cas. With sudden realization, the color drained from his face. He stumbled backward a few steps, his back hitting the wall.   
"There it is! That look! The look on your face right now, priceless!" Dean shouted with excitement. Cas turned to lend a helping hand to Sam, but he just shook it away. Sam stared at the angels face.   
"What did he mean? When he said that you were the one who did this to him?"  
"Oh no, Cas. He's connecting the dots. Might want to bail before the situation becomes to much to handle. That's what you're good at, remember?" Castiel glared at the demon with disgust.  
"WHAT DID HE MEAN!?" growled Sam.  
"You're giving me chills, Sammy." Dean knew he was testing his limits. He wanted to know how far he could push his brother before he snapped. The angel stayed silent, just staring at the ground. "What? You aren't going to tell him?" Dean shrugged. "Okay then. I'll do it, I really like telling this story anyway." Dean raised his head and looked his brother in the eye. "See, me and Cas here go way back. He was the one who was supposed to grip me tight and raise me from perdition. But when the going got tough, he and the God squad bailed. Left me down there to rot for six hundred years."  
"You can't be Dean, he's only been gone for five."  
"Feel free to step in whenever you like, Cas." Dean shifted slightly in his chair, looking for a weakness in the chains. Castiel looked up from the ground and sighed.   
"Time in Hell is different than time on Earth." He looked at Sam with shame and continued. "One month on Earth is equal to ten years in Hell. I'm sorry to tell you this Sam, but this is, in fact Dean. What's left of the man he was." Sam didn't move. He just stood there with a distant expression. Dean guessed that Sam had known the entire time, he just needed the confirmation from Cas. Dean noticed Kevin wasn't pacing any longer, but his shadow still obstructed the flow of light from under the door.  
"Dean. I am so sorry." Sam stated. The demon rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I mean it. I should've done more to save you. I shouldn't have stopped looking for a way to bust you out."  
"Oh, the story isn't over yet Sammy. I've been causing chaos for a lot longer than you think." Sam looked curiously at his brother. "When I was first dragged to Hell, I resisted. They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways you can't even imagine. Until there was nothing left. And then suddenly, I would be whole again. Like magic. So they could start in all over. And this demon, Alistair, at the end of everyday, every one, he would come over and he would make me an offer. To take me off the rack, if I put souls on. If I started the torture." Dean paused and looked up. Sams face was contorted with guilt and horror. He smiled and continued. "And everyday I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For thirty years I told him. But I couldn't do it anymore Sammy. I couldn't. I got off that rack and I started rippin' em' apart. After a while I lost count of how many souls." Sam turned so his back was facing his brother. Sam shoulders shook and that was how Dean knew he struck a nerve. Sam was crying. He then yanked open the door and stepped out of the room. Moments later Dean heard a crash that sounded like glass hitting a wall. Cas glared at the demon.  
"None of that was necessary." Castiel said.  
"Of course it was! He wanted to know the truth, now he knows. Most of it anyway." Cas walked to the edge of the devils trap and pulled out his angel blade. Dean just stared up at the angel.   
"I should have killed you before you could do any more damage."  
"I dare you to. Put me out of my misery." Dean leaned forward as far as the chains would let him. "DO IT!" The demons voice bounced off the walls. Cas raised his blade. Sam then came bursting through the door and grabbed the angels arm.  
"You can't." He said to Cas. "We can use him for the last trial."  
"Oh, yes. The trials. Close the gates of Hell forever. That's good thinking Sam. But you're missing one little detail."  
"And that would be?"  
"I'm no ordinary demon." Sam pinched his eyebrows together and shot Cas a quick glance.  
"What makes you so special?" Dean smirked and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them and raised his gaze to match Sams. Sam froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. Dean eyes were yellow, a pale yellow.  
"I'm the new Azazel, little brother."


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a couple of hours since Castiel had to drag Sam from the dungeon. When Dean had shown Sam his eyes, he lost it and lunged toward him with the demon blade. Cas had grabbed the back of Sams shirt just in time. The blade had just barely cut Deans neck. Once again Dean was alone with his thoughts. All of them came to the same conclusion. He had to come up with an escape plan. The chains that bound him were etched with spell work so he had to wait until they decided to move him to another location. Sam had mentioned that he was going to perform the last trial on Dean, so he knew it was only a matter of time.   
***  
"OKAY CAS! LET ME GO!" commanded Sam. He jerked away from the angels grasp and glared back at him. Cas held his stare.   
"Umm, I don't mean to interrupt or anything, but would either of you mind telling me what the Hell is going on?" Kevin was standing at the other end of the main room in the bunker. Sam had told him that he once had an older brother who was now dead. Although he never mentioned that his brother died because he went to Hell. Cas finally broke eye contact when he turned to answer Kevins question.  
"The demon in the dungeon is Sams brother. His name is Dean."  
"Wait... what?" Kevin sounded genuinely confused. Sam sighed and decided to explain everything.  
"I already told you that I had a brother who had died. What I didn't tell you is... he died because he went to Hell. He sold his soul and Bobby and I couldn't save him. He's been in the pit since May of 2008."  
"Why did he sell his soul?"  
"He did it to save me. Some douchebag stabbed me in the back, literally. I died and he brought me back." Kevin gave Sam a pitying look. Sam hated that look. That was one of the reasons he never told anyone about Dean. He never wanted to be pitied.   
"This is a good thing, isn't it? I mean now you can do the last trial AND you get your brother back. That's two birds with one stone."   
"I had the same idea, but..." Sam paused to look at his friends. "But, I don't know if I can do it. The second trial hit me a lot harder than the first. Most of the time I feel like my head is going to explode if my body doesn't crumble to pieces first. If it was any other demon, I would probably be able to do it with out a hitch. But it's not. It's my brother. The brother who went to Hell to save me. He is going to use every detail he knows about me to tear me apart." Kevin was looking at him with a pinched face. He looked like someone had just told him that the sky was purple and made of hedgehogs and expected him to believe it. "What's that face for?"  
"You're joking right?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"You're a freaking Winchester! Act like it! You're talking like you have this great battle ahead of you. And you do, don't get me wrong, but that thing in there," Kevin raised his hand and pointed to the hallway leading to the dungeon, "that's not your brother. Not anymore. He's a monster who has killed people. Innocent people. And if you don't want anymore innocent people to get hurt, you're going to sack up and cure that demon! Turn him back into the guy you knew as your brother." Kevin was clutching the end of the table, staring at Sam. Just waiting for a response.  
"Kevin, you don't get it. He-"  
"Hey! No. What's your last name?"  
Knowing exactly where this conversation was going, Sam smiled. "Winchester."  
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that. What's your last name?"  
"Winchester! Okay? My last name is Winchester."  
"Exactly! So what is Sam WINCHESTER going to do?"  
"I'm going to cure a demon." All three of them were smiling now. Even Cas, who was standing at the other end of the room, was grinning from ear to ear. Kevin detached from the table and walked toward Sam. He put his hand on Sams shoulder.  
"Awesome. Go get your weapons and put them in the Impala. I'll get the necessities for the exorcism and give them to you when you're ready to leave." Sam nodded and walked a few steps away before turning around to face Kevin again.  
"You reminded me of him a lot during that speech of yours." Kevin smiled and looked at the ground for a moment before raising his head again.  
"Yeah well, I guess if you hang around a Winchester long enough it starts to wear off on you."  
***  
The doors to Deans prison opened with a loud screech. Light illuminated the room. Sam and Cas walked in and moved closer to the chair he was chained to. Sam had a pillow case in one hand and the demon blade in his other. Castiel was holding what appeared to be more enchanted chains. Dean sat up straight, smiled and looked at Sam. "We finally getting this show on the road?" Sam didn't reply. He just tugged the pillow case over his brothers head and carefully held the blade to his throat. The shackles around Deans wrists clicked open with the sound of a key turning. As soon as his hands were free, Cas encircled the upper part of Deans body with the enchanted chains. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."   
Once Dean was on his feet he was being dragged out of the dungeon blindly. As they walked, he took in all the information he could. He counted the steps from his prison to the first corner they had to turn, and all the way to where he was being pushed into the trunk of the Impala. Dean had truly missed this car. He missed being able to drive it with the music at a deafening volume, all the windows rolled down. As they drove, Dean tried to count how long the ride was and what turns they had made, but his mind, as usual, went to all corners of nowhere. Thinking about how things should've been different. He always wondered what would've happened if Castiel hadn't given up on him. Would he and Sam be the way they were before he made the deal? Or would they have drifted apart? Would Sam have abandoned him again like he had when he left for Stanford? Dean could feel the car slowing to a halt. The doors creaked open and soon after, the trunk did as well. Even though the pillow case was still over his head, Dean took in all he could about his surroundings. The air smelled fresh and cold. He could hear moving water near by. As he was yanked away form the Impala, he could feel that the ground beneath him wasn't solid pavement. It felt like stepping on hundreds of small rocks, he assumed it was gravel.   
It was only another few steps before Dean was being pulled up a couple stairs. They creaked with old age. He could tell he was in a small building now because the light on the outside of the pillow case had faded, and as he walked he could hear the squeaks of the floorboards bouncing off the walls. He was pushed down into a chair. Sam bound Deans hands and feet to the arms and legs of the chair. Cas yanked the pillow case from over Deans head.   
He had been right about the size of the building. They were inside what appeared to be a small church. The entire structure was made of wood which was once painted white. That paint, however, was now peeling and most of the floor was covered in wet leaves, mold, and dirt. Each wall had large stained glass windows. In the back of the church there was an alter and to the sides there was confession booths. Dean was sitting in the middle of a devils trap made with red spray paint. Sam walked to the back of the room and placed several syringes onto the alter. "Sam, I need to go help Metatron." said Cas. He was standing near the door of the church, waiting for an answer. Sam slowly turned and leaned back against the alter. He took a deep breath.  
"Yeah, go ahead. I've got things covered here." he reassured. With the sound of feathers flapping and a light breeze, Castiel had vanished from the building. Dean watched carefully as Sam turned back to the syringes. He saw Sams shoulders fall a bit. Even though Dean couldn't see his face, he knew his little brother was in pain.  
***  
As soon as Cas had disappeared, Sam turned his back to his brother. Clutching at the sides of the alter to keep him from collapsing. His head was pounding and his heart was racing. He breathed in slowly and exhaled at the same pace. After a couple of moments he raised his throbbing skull and walked towards the confession booth.  
***  
Dean watched as Sam walked towards the confession booth. He paused for only a moment before he grabbed the handle of the torn screen door and pulled it open. Dean strained to hear what Sam decided to confess out of pure curiosity. Every now and then he could swear he heard Sam say his name. Soon enough though, Sam opened the door again and returned to his post at the alter. He uncapped the first needle and stuck it into his basilic vein. Dean saw a thick red liquid begin to fill the syringe. Sam slowly removed the needle and swayed slightly before he began to step towards the devils trap. "Why don't you say we call this a day, huh? Have another go at it when you're feelin' better?" said Dean jokingly. Sam looked into the familiar green eyes of his brothers shell.  
"You aren't scared, are you Dean?" Sam smirked. Dean looked up and returned his expression.  
"I see you've finally accepted that I'm your brother."  
"I haven't actually, but I have to call you something. Nice job dodging the question though."  
"You know as well as I do, demons don't feel fear." Sam smiled murderously.  
"You know as well as I do," He plunged the needle into the side of Deans neck, "that's not true."


	6. Chapter 6

As Sam retracted the needle from Deans neck he cringed. The demon was groaning in what seemed to be pain. He walked back to the alter and set the syringe down. He turned and stared at the creature. This was the part that Sam had feared the most. The waiting. He knew this was when Dean was going to fire off his insults and try to use his knowledge of their past relationship to harm him. The demon was breathing heavily. It looked up at Sam, his eyes had gone to the demonic yellow. Sam looked down at his hands. He couldn't bare to see those eyes in the shell of his former brother. "I've noticed something curious..." Dean smirked and began to look around the room. "Just an interesting observation really."  
"Oh yeah? Tell me. What, exactly, have you noticed?"  
"It's just a little quirk you do. Whenever I show you my eyes, the yellow ones of course, you just happen to look away. Maybe you look at the ground, maybe you find something particularly interesting underneath your fingernails. But you haven't looked directly at them."  
"So what's your point?" Sam felt the blood rush to his head. He forced himself to stay calm, to not lose control.  
"I was just wondering why that is. Is it coincidence, which is highly doubtful, or is it because you can't bear to see the shell of your brother for what it really is? A monster. A demon. The same filth that killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. Hell, Azazels the one who made the deal with your father too. Funny how that deal was to bring me back from the brink of death." Sam clenched his fists tightly at his sides. He pivoted on his heel and stared at his brother. The creature was smiling which just made Sam more angry. It's eyes had gone back to Deans familiar green.  
"You have your observations, I have mine. Why don't you just keep your eyes yellow? Instead of masquerading around, pretending to be human."  
"That's an easy question. To get closer to innocent bystanders. You'll find most people, normal people anyway, aren't too comfortable when you have black, red, or in my case, beautiful yellow eyes."  
"That's not what I meant. I meant why don't you just keep them yellow here? I'm the only one with you and it's not like I don't already know what you really are." Deans smile wavered for only a fraction of a second. Just enough for Sam to see the shift.  
"Because it's easier to pretend to be somebody else when you stay in character."  
"You admit you're not Dean?"  
"I'm not the Dean you remember." Sam sighed and sat down on the steps to the alter. He ran his hands through his hair, a nervous habit, and looked at his watch. Still forty minutes to go until the next injection. This was going to be a very long night.

***  
Dean had lost track of how much time had passed since the first dosage of Sams blood. He was to busy considering his options for an escape. He could call one of the lesser demons in his charge, but that led to the problem of getting blood to create the line of communication. Since his hands were tied that seemed pretty impossible at the moment. Dean glanced over at his little brother. Sam rested his back on the side of the alter, hands across his lap, and one leg bent so his knee was by his chest. He was staring distantly out one of the windows of the abandoned church. Dean couldn't help but wonder what was going through Sams mind.   
The small ding of Sams watch signaled it was time for the next injection. Dean watched as Sam struggled to lift himself from his position. His eyes followed him as he filled the syringe and approached the devils trap. Sam grabbed the ends of Deans hair and yanked his head to the side, making his neck irritatingly vulnerable. The needled plunged into his vein, launching the purified blood through his entire body. Dean couldn't help but groan. The blood had and odd pain that came with it. It made each of his veins burn and contract, stiffening his entire body. "You ought to know that my worker bees have definitely noticed my absence by now." said Dean. He forced his eyes up, ignoring the pain surging through his body. He caught a glimpse of Sams stare before he turned and walked back to his position by the alter. "They will find me and free me. Then they're gonna kill you." Sam closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the side of the alter.  
"I wouldn't be so sure. This place is warded." Sam reached into his left pocket and pulled a small object out. "Hex bags hiding us too." He shoved the bag back into his pants. He inhaled deeply and held it for a moment before releasing a long sigh.  
"You honestly believe they won't be expecting that? Hell, you're more pathetic than I remember, Sammy." Dean could see the anger begin to boil underneath Sams skin. "I mean, really, you were always the smart one. Gotta prepare for everything, make sure we're ready for anything that comes at us." Sam shot himself up from his position and walked to stand in front of Dean. He stared murderously into the demons eyes. Dean lifted the corner of his mouth, returning his brothers glare.  
"Times have changed." said Sam  
"How so?"  
"Now I'm the only Winchester left to protect." That was the last thing Dean had expected Sam to say. In the pit of his stomach he felt a small ache. He looked away from Sam. Dean heard the wood of the church floor creek under Sams weight, signaling he had gone back to his position near the alter.   
The hours of the night ticked by, although Dean could feel every millisecond of each one. They had fallen into a type of routine. The watch would ding, Sam would sigh and walk to refill the syringe. He would tilt Deans head to the side, showing his neck and press the needle in. The blood had begun to change the both of them. Dean couldn't stop himself from noticing he was beginning to regret things he had done years before. He also noticed Sam was growing weaker. Each time he went to refill the syringe, Dean could see his whole body shake with exhaustion and pain. Sams skin was sickly pale and he had dark purple and brown bags underneath his eyes. He longed to comfort his brother, to let him know everything was going to be okay, just as he had when they were children.  
The door of the church exploded and sent wood chips flying through the damp air. Dean turned his head and peered over the back of the chair. A woman walked through confidently. She stopped, only a few steps inside of the building, and put her hands on her hips. Her hair was dark brown and shaped into a pixie cut. She had on ripped blue jeans and a blood red, low cut shirt, covered with a black leather jacket. Her face was angular with round eyes. Dean painfully forced himself to rotate his curiosity back towards Sams direction. He saw Sam trying his hardest to stay on his feet, but he was swaying back and forth, about to fall down. Sams right hand was gripping the demon blade so tight that his knuckles had begun to turn white. Dean smirked when he glanced behind his brother and there stood two more demons. One possessing a tall man with dark skin and black hair. His human eyes were a pale green. The other was a man with platinum blonde hair, who was significantly shorter than the other demon. Although he appeared to be only three or four inches shorter than Sam.   
Sam spun around almost losing his balance and realized his situation fully. "You really think you could kidnap our head general and nobody was going to notice?" the woman with the pixie cut had said. Sam just stared at her, waiting, ready to defend himself. The man with the platinum hair was the first to attack. He grabbed the collar of Sams shirt and threw him against the back wall of the church. The woman's eyes shifted black and the entire building began to tremble. The floorboards split in a straight line from where she was standing to the devils trap, breaking its power.  
Dean moved his focus back to Sam. He was pushing himself off the floor, looking for the demon blade he had dropped when catapulted across the room. The man with the dark skin was standing over Sam, he leaned down and grabbed the back of Sams neck. Sam quickly grabbed the mans arm and pulled him to the ground. He stood, then raised his leg and sent a powerful kick to the mans rib cage. "Well, don't just stand there Abbott!" screamed the woman. The man with the platinum hair, Abbott, sighed then walked to Sam and grabbed his arms, forcing them behind his back. Sam was dragged away from the man on the floor. Abbott released him only for a moment before he raised his hand and sent Sam flying across the room. He pinned him to the wall. "Get up Chanter, it couldn't have hurt that bad. He's only human." The woman had said to the man Sam had attacked. Chanter had blood streaming from his mouth and down his chin.  
"New meat suits, I see. You took your damn time getting here, Kylee." said Dean directing his voice towards the woman with short hair.  
"Sorry, sir. The hex bags made you more difficult to locate."   
"Shut up and get me out of these chains." Dean waited impatiently as Kylee unbound him from the chair. Finally he stood up and cracked his neck. He stretched his arms out in front of him, smiling ear to ear.   
"How did you find us?! We should be invisible to all demons." growled Sam. Dean then reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small coin.  
"Tracking coin, little brother. Not to say 'I told you so', but..." He walked triumphantly towards Sam and held the coin out in front of him. With a wicked smile plastered to his face, Dean continued, "I told you so."  
***  
Sams body was frozen against the wall. The demon, Abbott, kept him there. Sams focus wasn't on Abbott though. It was on Dean. Standing in front of him, holding up the coin that had led to his current situation. "You put a tracking coin on yourself?" he asked incredulously.  
"It's not as dumb as you think." said Dean, twirling the coin between his fingers. He walked over to Kylee and placed it into her palm. "It was only detectable by my second in command." Dean walked with a bounce in his step until he was leaning against the wall right next to Sam. He could see Dean had been worn out by the purified blood, just as he had. He had bags under his eyes and just a slight quiver to his step. Sam could tell that he was physically forcing himself to stand. But why? "As always, it's been a pleasure working with you. But, unfortunately, I have a little Hell to raise. Better luck next time, kiddo." Dean winked then pushed himself off the wall and started towards the door to exit the church.  
A crushing force had been applied onto Sams body. He could feel the wall begin to bend behind him. He let out a cry of pain. "Dean!" he screamed in agony. Dean stopped immediately, turning on his heel, and faced Sam again, enraged. The pain of the force had Sam on the verge of unconsciousness. His vision turning black around the edges.   
"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Dean had directed his comment at Abbott. The demon was extremely confused and the pressure on Sam was lifted imperceptibly.  
"I'm... Well, we are going to kill him, right?" Dean took only a few steps and was standing before Abbott. His facial expressions were those of a man about to kill. Sam glanced around the room, looking at the other demons reactions. Chanter was standing cowardly, a few feet behind Kylee, who looked as if she had been betrayed by her closest ally and was already plotting revenge.  
"What gave you the idea that I want him dead?" said Dean as he stared down the other demon.  
"Maybe the fact that he's trying to close the gates of Hell forever?! That sounds like a pretty good reason to kill him if you ask me!" Kylee was fuming, frustration seeped from her every pore. She was instantly standing next to Dean, who was still glaring at Abbott. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Sam saw the flicker of a smile on Deans face.  
"The problem is, Kylee..." With incredible speed, Dean latched his hand over Kylee's and spun, twisting her arm to bend at an unnatural angle. "Nobody asked for your opinion." He said into her ear. She then dropped to her knees, escaping Deans grasp, and rolled into a pouncing position. She began to rise, slowly, with her hands up.  
"Fair warning to each of you." Dean looked at the demons in the church, every one of them had fear painted across their face. "You touch my brother, you're going to wish you were dead." Sam looked up at Dean. His face had been contorted back to the Dean that Sam remembered. For that moment, Sam was happy. His big brother was back, if only for a minute. "Release him Abbott." Sam still felt the weight pushing on his chest, bending the wall behind him. Deans eyes shifted yellow and he materialized only inches from the other demons face. "I said let. Him. Go." He hissed. Sam sunk to the floor, gasping for air. He clutched at his chest, needing to hold onto anything, anything that would keep him from passing out. Sams head was pounding, his entire body felt like it was on fire. His arms began to glow from the trials effects. Agony raced through every nerve. Sam went to scream, but all he could manage was a muffled choke. He eyes were closed but he could hear the scraping of of somebody being pushed across the church floor. He then heard the distinct sound of somebody choking on their own blood.  
***   
Dean saw Sam sink to the floor, but before he could run to his little brothers aid, Kylee was in front of him snarling. "You're willing to give up everything? Everything we've worked for?! To give a man, who isn't even your brother anymore, maybe another five minutes to live?! LOOK AT HIM DEAN. IF HE ISN'T DEAD YET HE WILL BE SHORTLY. If the trials don't kill him, then I will!" Kylee took a sidestep towards Sam. Dean grabbed her by the her hair and threw her to the other end of the building. She hit the wall face first. Hard enough, he could hear some of the boards snap. She bounced off the wall and rolled a small distance before she stood up. She clearly had a broken nose and blood was streaming from her mouth. She wiped the back of her hand across her face. Chanter moved towards Sam. Dean was behind him instantly.  
"Don't say I didn't warn you." said Dean as he forced his fist through Chanters back and out the front of his chest. His body flashed orange as blood bubbled up his throat and began to leak from the corner of his mouth. Dean retracted his arm, letting Chanters empty meat suit fall to the floor. He turned to face Kylee, feeling the red sticky fluid drip from his fingertips. He stared icily into the female demons eyes. Abbott's arms were suddenly around Deans throat, dragging him to the ground. Abbott's finger dug into the flesh of Deans neck. He could feel the tickle of blood trailing down his throat as Abbott pressed his hands deeper into his neck. Dean looked over at Sam. He was lying on the ground. His eyes were half open and of all things, Dean saw him smile. This smile held every happy memory that they shared. Every laugh, every tear shed, everything that made them brothers. Dean smiled back and with that smile he let Sammy know that everything was going to be okay. He was going to get them out of this mess. No matter what, Dean would always protect his little brother.  
Dean noticed a little glint of light coming from Sams hand. He was holding the demon blade. With his last amount of energy, Sam slid the knife across the floor towards his big brother. Dean reached for it and the second that he had it in his hand he reached behind him and stabbed Abbott in his skull. With a flash of orange light, the grip around Deans throat ceased. Dean stood up ignoring the pain that insulated his entire body. He glowered at Kylee, daring her to advance. "You're going to regret this." she said menacingly. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth. With a blood curdling scream black smoke filled the room. It crashed through one of the windows of the church and was gone in an instant.  
The church was as quiet as death, which made Dean panic. He ran to Sam and put two fingers to his throat. Only a faint thump gave Dean enough of the relief he desperately needed. Sams arms were glowing an eerie orange. He writhed in pain, screaming. "How do I stop, Dean?" He said through his cries.  
"Just let it go." breathed Dean. He was trying to sound as calm as possible.   
"I can't, Dean. It's in me. You don't know what this feels like."  
"Hey, listen to me." He put his hand on Sams face. His skin was burning hot. "We will figure it out. Okay? Just like we always did. Come on" Keeping his voice as steady, Dean pulled Sam to his feet, half dragging, half carrying him out the door of the church. Ignoring the misery his body was in, Dean had Sams right arm draped around his shoulders. Sam began to groan as if he were being tortured. "I gotcha, little brother. You're gonna be just fine." As they neared the Impala, Dean lost his grip on Sams arm and he tumbled towards the ground. He fell against the side of the car. Sam was grabbing at his chest gasping for air. His eyes began to roll to the back of his head. "Sam? SAM?!" Dean looked around frantically. He raised his gaze to the night sky and formed an idea he was just desperate enough to use. "Cas! CAS!" He looked around frantically hoping to see a tan trench coat anywhere. "CASTIEL!" Silence. Not a single flap of a wing to let Dean know he wasn't alone. "Where the Hell are you?" He said to himself. Sam had begun to grow quiet. Dean looked at his brother. "Sammy?" His face was damp with sweat and contorted with pain. He raised his gaze to the sky, looking for any sign of help.  
In the distance, right above the horizon, Dean saw a flaming ball of light. Immediately following the burning ball, hundreds more appeared. Falling from the clouds. Dean was taken aback. "Cas. No." The unmistakable golden glow of angels falling littered the night sky. The first one to hit the earth plunged into the lake next to the church. The sound jolted Sam from unconsciousness.  
"What's happening?" he asked weakly.  
Deans mind was throbbing, every instinct in his body urging him to run, to save Sammy. But he was frozen, stuck, staring at the sky. "Angels." The sky glowed, it was a beautiful and terrifying sight. "They're falling."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a summary of the first episode of Season 9, but I promise it is important to read it because there are some details that have been changed.

Dean ripped his stare from the sky and focused on Sam. He was sitting in the mud, leaning against the back tire of the Impala. Dean couldn't see him breathing. With a flick of his hand, the back door on the drivers side of the car was opened. Dean lifted Sam onto his shoulder and lay him in the backseat. He slammed the door closed. Dean sat himself in the drivers seat and, even before he had closed the door, the car bolted into motion.  
The entire way to the hospital was a brutally terrifying routine. Every minute or so, Dean would look back at his little brother. He would notice Sams paler, the sweat on his forehead, the deepening circles under his eyes. He would then turn to look at the road again and press the gas a little harder. The world around the car had become a blur of lights and sounds. The sky had gone dark again. Rain had begun to obstruct the clarity of the windshield.   
Dean pulled the car up to the emergency room door. Several nurses in navy scrubs came running out of the building. Dean yanked the car door open and pulled Sam out. "What happened?" asked one. A man with a gurney appeared by his side.   
"I don't know. H-he's been sick for the past couple weeks. Then he called me and said he was driving himself to the hospital." Dean placed his brother on the gurney. "I f-found him sitting in the rain by his car." He watched blankly as they pushed Sam through the doors of the hospital.  
"Stay there! We're going to have more questions!" a nurse called back as she followed the crowd inside.   
***  
Sam opened his eyes slightly. All around him were sterile white lights. He was lying on his back, looking up at a ceiling. The tiles raced past him. He wanted to sit up but his entire body was burning. His heart was racing and his lungs felt like they were going to collapse. "His eyes are open." said a voice. The face it had come from was obstructed by the brightness of the hall. "Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" Sam tried to reply but all that manged to escape his mouth was a cough muffled by blood. "Sir, you're at Glenwood Memorial Hospital. We're going to take care of you, don't you worry. Everything is going to be okay." Darkness was seeping into Sams sight, everything around him was submerged in a deafening silence. Then, all at once, he wasn't laying on a gurney, but sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean was in the driver seat, but this wasn't the demon he had to label with his brothers name. This was his big brother. This was the real Dean.  
***  
"The MRI shows massive internal burns effecting many of the major organs. Oxygen to the brain has been severely deprived." Dean was standing by the window in Sams hospital room listening to one of Sams doctors. He didn't care enough to catch what his name was. "The coma is a result of the body doing everything in it's limited power to protect itself from further harm". He looked up at the doctors face. He had dark skin and was bald. His face was riddled with stress lines. Dean grimly wondered how many peoples deaths this man was responsible for. He sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Looking at Sam, all the wires and machines attached to him, made Dean sick.  
"This wasn't supposed to happen." he said to no one in particular.   
"If your brother continues on this trajectory, the machines might keep him alive, but..." Dean looked at the doctor before he could finish his sentence.  
"But he'll be dead." he interjected.  
"Technically, yes." The doctor looked truly sad, but Dean knew anybody could fake that expression with enough practice. He had done it himself.  
"So, there's no recovering? I mean, there's no bounce back, there's nothing?" plead Dean. He hadn't dragged Sam to this hospital and lost every demon he had control over for Sam to just die.  
"I'm afraid that's in Gods hands now." sighed the doctor, trying to be reassuring. Anger rolled through Deans body, filling every cell with hatred. He wiped his face clean of any expressions.  
"You're a doctor. You're a medical professional. You're trying to tell me that my brothers life is in GODS hands?" Dean saw the doctor sigh and give a slight role of his eyes. Dean grabbed him by his white coat and slammed him against the wall. Nothing made him happier, in that moment, than to see fear paint the mans face. Dean saw that the nurses outside Sams room were already on the line with security. "God has nothing to do with this equation! AT ALL." He growled. "This is a hospital. Save him." He looked into the mans eyes and saw panic rising. Dean dragged the doctor down against the wall to match his eye level. "Or the next person to need intensive care, is going to be you." Dean released the man from his grip. He tumbled down the wall and landed on his knees. The doctor stood and, while simultaneously keeping his eyes on Dean, backed out of the room.  
After the doctor had fled, Dean stood at the end of Sams bed. He listened to the machines. They beeped and wheezed, keeping Sam alive. He couldn't take it anymore. Dean walked away from his brother and out into the hallway. He leaned his back against the wall and put his hands on his head. No longer able to put up the mirage of sanity, Dean slunk to the floor and rested his head on his knees.  
***  
"Dean?" said Sam.  
"Hey, Sammy. Long time." he replied. As the Impala roared down an unknown road, Sam kept looking at his brother. It was really him. "Look, there's no easy way to say this, but something happened back there. In the church." continued Dean. "I don't know what. I don't know why." Sam looked quizzically at his brother. "You're dying Sam." Somewhere far off, he could hear a faint beeping noise.  
"Shut up." It couldn't be true. Sam pondered why Dean would say this. Then he realized. "You aren't really here. Are you?"  
"No. I'm you. This, ALL of this," Dean gestured to their surroundings, "is you. This is your way of coping. We are in your head. You're in a coma and are DYING. It's your way to help you decide what you want to really do. Just lay down and die, or fight." Sam looked out the window. He pinched his eyebrows together and frowned. "Hey, look. Just because you're dying, doesn't mean you're dead. Not yet, we have jimmied ourselves out of worse."  
"I've jimmied my way out of worse, Dean. Not you. And honestly I'm sick of it." Sam looked at his brother. Dean had his eyes on the road in front of them. The rain was coming down hard, creating a type of white noise all around them.  
"No, we are going to fight this. You aren't going to give up now. I'm not gonna let you. Now, I've got the plan, you've just got to hang on. You hear me?"  
"The whole reason I stopped doing the trials, was NOT to die."  
"And the next time we see Naomi or Metatron or whoever is to blame for this, you will get some justice. But for right now, you've got to fight this, man."  
"Okay, alright. What's the plan?" Dean inhaled and turned his face towards the window for a moment. He looked back to the road.  
"I'm working on it." he sighed.  
"What does that mean? I mean, I'm kind of dying here apparently."  
"It means I'm workin' in it! Alright?" Dean flashed his eyes toward Sam, but then refocused on the road. Sam sighed and looked at the dashboard.  
"The thing is, if I am dying, and I believe you, I do. But, if you're you... but you're really me, an-and you're the part of me that wants to fight to live..."   
"Yes." Dean nodded his head in understanding. "I have no idea what you just said but, continue."  
"But if you don't have any idea how I'm supposed to fight...Then am I supposed to be fighting at all?" Sam looked to his brother for guidance and was met with a disbelieving stare.  
"Are you serious?"  
"Hell yes he's serious." stated a familiar voice from the backseat of the Impala. Sam and Dean both turned to investigate the source. Bobby was sitting in the middle, wearing his usual ball cap and jacket. His skin was pale and his tone of voice was commanding. "And if you ask me, I think the kids got a good point." He looked at Dean who had turned back around to look ahead of them.  
"Sam wants to die and you think he's got a point?!" Dean pulled his eyebrows together and frowned at the old man.  
"Okay, I don't want to die." said Sam, trying to defuse the tension. "I asked if maybe I was supposed t-"  
"Shut it Sam." Dean made a fist and pointed his thumb back towards Bobby. "You? Go. And, uh, before you throw me under the bus, you're welcome for the Hell rescue." Sam rubbed his temples with his fingertips. The last thing he wanted right now was for these two to be fighting. Especially, since they were supposed to be helping him figure out what to do.  
"Hey, first of all, you didn't rescue jack, half wit. Sam did. Second of all, Sam, you're in a coma. Now, suck as that may, sometimes that's just the way things go.'  
"What are you talkin' about? There's always a way! You taught us that!"  
"Oh, you mean like the way one of you idjits does some ass backwards crazy thing to beat Death? Like, sell your soul?" Bobby hit a nerve within Dean. He stared into the rear view mirror.  
"Exactly like selling my soul!"  
"Yeah, like that worked so well the last time."  
"Oh come on."  
"ENOUGH! Come on, both of you, I can't hear myself think!" The car went quiet. Dean looked at his little brother. Sam must have had his thoughts painted on his face because he did a double take.  
"Wait? You're not actually buying this are you?!" said Dean, jabbing his thumb towards Bobby again.  
"Excuse me, but are you actually dead? Because I am. Last I checked you're just a burning ball of black smoke!" Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'm here because I'm the part of Sam that actually knows what he's talking about."  
"Well, I'm in the front seat because, even after all these years, Sam put me here. He knows that if he wants to fight, WHICH HE DOES, I'm his best shot." He nodded towards Sam. "Right?" Within half a second, the front of the Impala was was crowded. Bobby had appeared between Sam and Dean. Everyone in the car exchanged looks of confusion and disbelief.  
"Well," said Bobby quietly, "that just got real uncomfortable." He placed a hand on Sams shoulder and looked at Dean. "Seeya, Dean."  
"Sam, don't you dare- " began Dean, but it was to late. Sam and Bobby were already standing in the middle of a forest. Birds were singing in the background and the air around was fresh. Sam would've thought it was peaceful if he wasn't on his deathbed.  
"Yip, yip, yip. Am I right?" Bobby was standing next to him with his hands in his pockets. He was looking up at Sam with a comforting smile. Sam let out a little huff of astonishment.  
"Honestly, Bobby, I-I don't know what's right." Bobby put his arm around Sams shoulder and smiled.  
"Let's walk." and so they did.

***  
I never thought I would actually become this desperate. Dean thought. He was sitting in the chapel of the hospitals church. His hands were clasped in front of him. It was a small room. The walls were made of red brick and the floor some type of off white tile. The pews were made of some cheap wood and the air was filled with dust. At the front of the room was an alter placed before a stained glass window. It smelled like antiseptics and death. He took a deep breath. "Cas, are you there?" He paused. Wondering how he had been pushed this far. Why he even cared that Sam was dying. "Sammy's hurt. He's hurt uh- He's hurt pretty bad. And uh, I know we aren't exactly friends or whatever, but please. Sammy needs you here. He needs your help." Dean raised his head to look around the room. There were other people there. Some were crying, others were praying. But there was nobody in a trench coat. There was no flap of wings to signal an arrival. "Fine." said Dean.   
He lowered his head and closed his eyes. "Okay, listen up." he snarled. "This one goes out to any angel with their ears on. This is Dean Winchester. And I need your help. As you all know, demons can't bring somebody back from death without making a deal. Now, you have put my brother through Hell. He doesn't deserve to die this way. The deal is this; Glenwood Memorial Hospital. Randolf, New York. The first one to help me gets my help in return and you know that aint nothing. It's no secret that we haven't always seen eye to eye, but you know that I am good for my word." He sighed and looked around the room. "And I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't desperate." He raised his head once again only to be met with a greater disappointment than the last time. Dean let a huff of frustrated air escape his lungs. He stood up and marched out of the chapel.   
Before he realized what he was doing, Dean was standing in the parking lot, looking into the trunk of his car. His hands traced over his old weapons. He grabbed a few salt rounds, placing them in his coat pocket. He pulled his hands away, resting them against the top of his head. Dean closed his eyes and began to think of his options for a back-up plan.  
He was suddenly yanked away from his car while somebody held a cold metallic blade to his neck from behind him. "A demon praying? I don't think I've ever heard of anything more pathetic." Dean reached his arms up and grabbed his attackers shoulders, flipping his captor up and over onto his back.  
"I prayed for help, jackass. Is that what you're here to do or not? Dean looked down at the angel on the ground before him. He was shorter than Dean himself and had the haircut of a businessman. It was brown with hints of gray. He was wearing a suit as well, completing his professional look. The man got up and pointed the angel blade at Dean.  
"You'll be helping me, abomination."  
"Is that so? And what makes you think I'll comply?"  
"Because all I need is some information. Where is Castiel?"  
"Who's asking?"  
"Try every angel who was ejected from their home." The two had begun to rotate around each other. Like two lions about to pounce and try to rip the others throat out.  
Dean smiled. "Oh. Well, in that case, I have no clue." The angel leaped forward trying for a stab with his blade. Dean side stepped and the angel only nicked his left cheek. Warm, sticky fluid dripped down Deans jawline. He was about to retaliate when another form appeared behind the angel. This man grabbed the angels arm as he was about to throw his blade.  
Dean could see the angels true form behind his vessel and felt as if he knew him. He just couldn't fit a name to his face. "Easy there, brother." calmed the new angel. He pulled the businessman's arm down to his side. "This creature has prayed for our assistance. Are we ourselves, creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter." The new angel stared at the business man, waiting for his reply.  
"Forgive me, brother. I don't recognize you." Dean was ready to defend himself if needed. He was standing nearby paying attention to every detail and word they gave.  
"Happy to make your re-acquaintance. After you disarm." The businessman relaxed and took a step back only to gain his footing, then sent a fist hurling into the new angels cheek. The new angel held his face in his hand and looked back at the other one.  
"Come now, is that any way to treat a brother injured in the fall?" The businessman sprang into action. He reached the angel blade out to stab his brother, but the new angel grabbed his arm and elbowed him in his nose. He then pulled his elbow back slightly and replaced it with his fist. The businessman dropped the angel blade and punched his brothers nose. The new angels head flung backward and he lost his grip on the other man. The man in the suit took a step forward and grabbed the new angels jacket then sent him flying into a minivan parked a couple spaces away from the Impala. Dean quickly jumped across the room and grabbed the angel blade. He then turned and stabbed the businessman in the back.   
The parking lot filled with a eerie white glow as the angel screamed in pain. He pulled the sword from the mans chest and let his body crumple onto the ground. Dean looked at the familiar angel. "Who are you?"  
"Never mind me. You're Dean Winchester." The angel was breathing very heavily. He was leaning against the car he was thrown into. "I heard your prayer and I am here to help." The angel was swaying back and forth trying to keep himself upright. Dean could see his exhaustion and then the angel fell onto his side, passed out on the cement.  
"Okay, I guess that works." sighed Dean. After making sure the parking lot was clear of any unwanted civilians, He picked up the familiar angel and slung him across his shoulders. Dean popped the trunk and grabbed a jar of holy oil then walked into an empty private lot. He placed the angel on the ground and poured the oil around him in a circle. He took his lighter out of his pocket and set the oil aflame. The angel inside began to wake, his groans of pain signaling his weakness. Dean stood with his arms crossed and his stare directly on the angel.  
"You want to help? Start with a name." The angel rose to his knees and looked around at the fire before him.  
"Ezekiel."  
"No. That's not true. Why do you look familiar? More importantly, why don't you want me to know who you really are?"  
"I fought with Castiel in the war against Raphael."  
"Try again," Dean narrowed his vision, "it's more than that." A switch flipped in Deans head and full recognition hit him like a brick. He smiled and tilted his head a little. "Gadreel?" The angels face drained it's vessel of color. He looked away from Deans stare. "Holy Hell. It's actually you."  
"So kill me then, demon."  
"Kill you? Why would I do that? I still need your help, as desperate as that may be." The angel met Deans stare again, a puzzled look on his face.  
"What for?"  
"You aren't very quick on the draw, are you pal? But, I guess, centuries in Heavens prison will do that to ya." Gadreel rolled his eyes and looked away. Dean began to pace around the circle of holy fire.  
"Alright, Gadreel. How do I know you're not hunting me or Castiel like the other angels?"  
"Oh, I'm sure there are many angels that are. Many more are on their way here most likely." Dean shifted his eyes and looked around the room.  
"How do you know that?"  
"You put out an open prayer like that-"  
"I must really be desperate." finished Dean. He focused back on the trapped angel. "You said you were hurt during the fall?"  
"I was, and tangling with my brother back there did me no favors. But what strength I have left, I offer to you." Dean stopped in his tracks and plastered his judging stare to Gadreel. Moments of silence passed.  
"Here's the deal, angel. You obviously don't want your brothers and sisters to find out that you've escaped Azkaban. I need somebody to heal Sam. I'll keep your little secret if you help me out."

***  
"I want to fight, I do. But, I just feel like..."  
"Like you got nothin' to swing at?" Bobby and Sam were walking slowly down a trail in the woods. They had only been walking for a short time, but the sun had risen and light showered the forrest floor. Sam sighed and looked down. He had his hands in his pockets and was a few steps ahead of Bobby. "Like you're punching at shadows? You've got to let go of fightin' and scratchin' and looking for loopholes. 'Cause that aint' happening."  
"So, so what? I just die?" said Sam bluntly.  
"Just die? All the good you've done? All the people you've saved? All the sacrifices you've made? You saved the WORLD son. How many people can say that? How many people can say that they've left this God forsaken hunk of a dirt that much a better place?" The continued to walk and Sam stayed silent. "What you call dyin', I call leaving a legacy." Sam looked up and met Bobbys smile.  
They continued to walk without speaking for a couple minutes. The forest was calm and beautiful. Sam couldn't remember the last time he had been this at peace.  
"There it is." said Bobby. Sam looked up and saw a rickety old wood cabin in front of them. Moss was growing on the sides and the windows were to dark to see the interior. "Everything inside you need to help you on your way." Sam turned back and looked at his friend. Bobby smiled. "Go on son. I'll be waiting for you with a couple of clod ones." Sam returned his smile, but felt his heart contract. He looked back at the cabin for a moment then heard Bobby scream in pain. He whipped his head back around to find Dean pushing a pointed stick through Bobbys chest. Without any expression, Dean let his friends corpse drop to the ground. Sam watched as it disappeared with a wave of the air.  
"Sorry old man." said Dean as he watched Bobby vanish.  
"Dean, are you insane?!" Sam shouted.   
"Oh come on, Sammy. Bobby was the part of you that wants to die. I know it stings, but he had to go." Sam stepped closer to his brother pointing a finger in his direction.  
"No, you have to go." Dean looked at Sam with anger and confusion. "When are you going to realize that IT'S OVER?! THERE IS NOTHING TO FIGHT FOR!"  
"No, see, I know you don't believe that."  
"Really?" The brothers looked at each other for a second. "Then what's your plan, Dean?" Dean pursed his lips and took a step back.  
"My plan?" He smiled and laughed then threw his fist at Sam. It hit his jaw and made him fall back a few steps. "My PLAN is to fight." He grabbed the front of Sams coat and pushed him backwards. "MY PLAN IS TO TRY!" He threw another punch that landed in the same spot as the first. Sam brought himself up only to be hit again "MY PLAN IS TO GIVE A DAMN!" Dean grabbed Sams jacket and pulled him down to eye level. "You tellin' me there's nothin'? Huh? You tellin' me there's nothing to fight for? That there's nothing to hope for?!" Deans voice was dripping venom as he shook Sam.  
"No." Sam breathed, he could feel blood spilling from his lip. "I'm telling you there is. You might not like it. You might not accept it, but it's in there." He raised an arm and pointed to the cabin. "It's in that house."  
"You know what's in that house! Now I can't help you, if you aint' willing to fight for yourself!" Sam looked down at the ground. He placed his hands over Deans as they gripped his jacket.  
"It's okay" said Sam, looking at his brother with sad eyes. Dean loosened his grip and let his hands fall to his sides. "It's what I want." Tears stung behind his eyes as he looked at his older brother. Sam lifted his right hand and patted Dean on his cheek. He vanished just as Bobby had. Unsteady on his feet, Sam moved to face the cabin again.  
***  
"He's so weak." said Gadreel. He and Dean were in Sams hospital room. The angel had placed his hand on Sams chest, trying to find out how serious the situation was. Dean was standing at the end of Sams bed watching Gadreels every move, ready to kill if he turned on their deal. A cell phone on the table by Sam began to ring. Dean walked over to it and answered.  
"Who is this?"  
"Dean?" said a low voice on the other end. Dean pulled the phone away from his ear. He looked up at the angel in the room and gave him an inch of trust then walked into the hallway and brought the phone back up.  
"Cas?"  
"Why do you have Sams phone?"  
"I just happened to be nearby. Where the Hell are you?"  
"Metatron... tricked me. It wasn't angel trials. It was a spell. I want Sam to know that."  
"Okay, well that's great but we've got ourselves a problem. I need you to poof your feathery ass here pronto."  
"What's wrong?"  
"Sam. He's uh.. They say he's dying. So get here now, because I can't do anything about it."  
"Dean. Metatron, he, umm, he took my grace."  
"What?!"  
"Never mind, what are you doing about Sam?"  
"I've handled it. I made a deal."  
"Dean-" Castiels voice was warning him that he didn't agree.  
"Relax. It's under control."  
"Well, keep it that way until I get there."  
"What? Nononono. Hey no, that's not an option."  
"It might be a few days..."  
"Hey Cas, listen to me. There are angels out there, okay? And they're lookin' for you and they're pissed."  
"That's none of your concern, demon."  
"You know what? It is my concern! Because Sam needs you right now. I don't need his best friend to go and get himself killed because he finally feels like being an angel."  
"I will be there when I can. I need to help my sisters and brothers, after all this is my fault."  
"Exactly Cas. Helping angels is what got you into trouble in the first place." Deans voice had risen from a whisper and he got some strange looks from passerbys. "Now, I'm begging you. For once, look out for yourself. Until we figure out what the Hell is going on, trust nobody."  
"I can't abandon them. I'll come help Sam the second I can."  
"Dammit Cas. Do you hear yourself?! There's a war on and it's on you." He whispered.  
"Which is why I need to do everything I can to make it better." Dean looked around and noticed the building had begun to shake. He tapped the phone to end the call and shoved it into his coat pocket. He turned around and headed straight for Sams room. He plunged himself inside and saw Gadreel standing by the window.  
"One of yours?" asked Dean.  
"Yes. Trying to secure a vessel. We need to move."  
"No, no. If we move him, he DIES."  
"If we stay, we could all die." Dean looked at Sam and then around the room. His eyes found a white board and some markers. He snapped his fingers and angel warding coated the walls of Sams hospital room.  
"As long as these are up, no angels are comin' in." He turned to Gadreel and looked him in the eye. "and no ones coming out. You gonna be okay with that?"  
"I'll manage." sighed the angel. A loud high pitched note pierced the air. "They're here." Dean looked about the room and headed towards the door. He reached for the handle and looked back at Gadreel.  
"Do not open this door for anybody except for me." He thrust his finger towards his dying brother. "Save him." Then he stepped into the hallway.   
As soon as he did, the windows behind him shattered. He saw a man pull the fire alarm causing the nurses to take the patients out of the building. Glass shards cut into his face streaking it with blood. He saw a man and a woman turn the corner at the end of the hall. Both of them had an angel blade in their right hand. He smiled and pulled one of his own from the inside of his jacket. They ran towards him as he spun the blade between his fingers. The woman reached him first and swung her blade directly for his face. He ducked and moved behind her. He stabbed his own sword into her side between her ribs. "That was a little predictable, don't you think?" he whispered into her ear as the life inside her died. He pulled his sword out of her body and spun on his heel blocking a blow from the man.  
The clinking of metal on metal, along with Deans laugh, rang through the hall as they both tried to kill the other. The man swung his blade down onto the hilt of Deans, knocking it from his hand. He looked up and grinned at his enemy. The man swung his fist and hit Deans already bloody face. Dean laughed and looked at his attacker. "Anybody ever tell you you hit like an angel?"   
"Abomination." spat the man.   
"Yeah, that's been said." Dean made himself stand tall and stare down the angel. "Repeatedly. I really wish you guys would invest in a thesaurus." Dean flicked his wrist and sent his sword sailing through the air. The angels face went slack as Deans blade went hilt deep into his heart. He walked towards his dying enemy and pulled the weapon from his chest "Obviously, not you specifically, but, I'm sure the word will get around." He wiped the blood from the sword onto his jacket and pushed the angel over. He fell onto his side and began to choke on his blood.  
***  
Sam pushed open the door which revealed a comfortable living area. It had two large chairs and a fireplace that was in use. A familiar being was standing by the fire. "Hello, Sam." Said Death. He turned slowly. "I've been waiting for you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read this one, I added a little detail into Chapter 7 that's kind of important. If you want to re-read go ahead, but basically Dean got his hands on a couple salt rounds. That is all.

Sam walked further into the room and sat in one of the chairs. Death moved slowly around and sat in the one opposite him. They were silent for a long time. Just the sound of burning wood bounced off the walls.  
"I must admit, when I heard it was you, well, I had to come myself." Death left his stare on Sams face. He looked at his hands and scoffed.  
"I bet you get off on this."  
"Perhaps, but not in the way you assume. I consider it to be quite the honor to be collecting the likes of Sam Winchester." Sam glanced up. "I try so hard not to pass judgement at times like this, not my bag you see, but you..." Death paused and continued to stare at Sam. "Well played, my boy." Sam looked away and at his hands again.  
"I need to know one thing." he said after a moment. Death sat forward in his chair.  
"Yes?"  
"If I go with you, can you promise that this time it will be final? That if I'm dead, I stay dead. Nobody can reverse it, nobody can deal it away. And nobody else can get hurt because of me." Death stared at Sam with something hidden behind the years of wisdom on his face. Was it pity? Maybe admiration?  
"I can promise that." Death rose from his chair. "It's time Sam, shall we?"  
***  
Dean knocked on the door to Sams room. Gadreel opened it with precaution. "We're clear for now, but hurry up and heal him, 'cause I'm sure more of the God squads on its way." The monitors around Sam were beeping frantically. "What the Hell is happening?"  
Gadreel had sat in the chair by the bed. He looked weak. Dark bags were under his eyes and he was breathing heavenly.  
"This just started. And the warding..." he took a large breath, "I'm afraid I'm weaker than I thought." Dean raised his hand and cracks appeared in the walls, cancelling some of the sigils powers.  
"Better? Now get to the healing."  
"I am sorry Dean."  
"No, we had a deal, okay?! I keep your secret, you save!"  
"And would, that I could. I'm just afraid that it's to late."  
"Are you kidding me?" Dean stared down the angel. "Are you saying there's no way to save my brothers life?"  
"No good ways I'm afraid." Gadreel looked down then at Sam.  
"Well, what are the bad ones?" he pleaded. The angel stayed silent, just looking at Sam. "We're out of options here man! Good or bad, let me hear em'!"  
"I cannot promise..." He lifted his gaze and stared at the demon, "but, there is a chance I can save your brother... From the inside."  
"So what? Possession?"  
"Mutual benefit, I suppose. I heal Sam while healing myself."  
"And when he's healed?"  
"I leave." Gadreel sucked in a ragged breath. "It's the best of a bad situation, Dean."  
"If it was up to me you would already have a new vessel, but I can't say yes for him. He's never going to say yes, not to you."  
"But, he would say yes to you."  
"I doubt that, I've been nothing but a pain in his ass since he figured out I was a demon. He doesn't trust me. He probably never will."  
"Right now he's in a dream state. In that dream he has met up with you, the old you. And that is the part of him that wants to live. He trusts that Dean. That is the Dean I will use to convince your brother."  
***  
Sam stood up, preparing to leave with Death. "Hold on." Dean was standing in the middle of the room.   
"Dean?"  
"It's okay Sammy." Death had an expression on his face, like recognition with an overlay of annoyance. Dean looked at the reaper. "I would have brought cronuts, but time is short so..."  
"By all means." replied Death as he rolled his eyes.  
"What's going on?" asked Sam  
"I found a plan."  
"It's to late, I'm going."  
"No, no, no, no. Listen to me." Dean took a step forward and cautiously raised his hand in front of him.  
"Why are you even here?! I'm not fighting this anymore!"  
"You have to fight this! I can fix this, okay? But not if you shut me out." Deans voice trembled with panic. Sam looked at Death. He was standing by the window, just watching them bicker. Dean followed Sams gaze. "It's not his time." He said to the reaper.  
"That's for Sam to decide." Dean moved his eyes back and forth from Death to Sam.  
"Sam, listen to me. I made you a promise." Sam looked at his brother, pulling his eyebrows together and frowning. "Before, I was turned into the creature out there." He pointed his hand up, gesturing to the real world. "You and me. Come whatever. Well, Hell. If this aint whatever. But you gotta let me in man. You gotta let me help!" Sams heart was racing and he couldn't keep his stare in one spot for more than a second. "There aint no me if there anit no you!" Sam stopped his eyes on Dean and just looked. He looked at his brother and remembered what he was all those years ago. Dean was his big brother and Sam needed to protect him. Just as he had done when he was still human. Dean needed to be saved.  
"What do I do?" whispered Sam. Deans eyes lit up.  
"Is that a yes?"  
"Yes." Sam looked at Death then back to his brother. Dean was smiling and he put a hand on his shoulder.  
"Come on." said Dean but his body began to morph into somebody else. The high pitched squeal of angels rang through the small room and white light flooded Sams mind.  
***  
Dean was walking outside the hospital next to his brother. Gadreel had control of him at the moment. "So? How's it look in there?"  
"Not good. There is much work to be done."  
"Well, he's going to wake up, right?"  
"I don't understand why you care so much. You are after all, a demon."  
"None of your damn business, answer the question."  
"He will." They walked side by side down the cement path. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. The only thing to signal the past events of the morning were the police sirens blaring in the background.  
"So when he does, what? Is he going to feel you in there triaging his spleen?"  
"He will not feel me, no. There is no reason for Sam to know that I am in here at all."  
"I have to agree with you on that. If he did find out, can't say he'd be to happy about it." Dean stopped walking and faced Gadreel.  
"Without his acceptance, Sam can eject me at anytime. Especially with me so weak."  
"Which is exactly why I'm not going to tell anyone. I assumed you would agree with that?" Gadreel nodded. "So what are we going to do about this hole hospital trip. We can't have him remembering any of it. He's not an idiot, he would eventually connect the dots."  
"I can erase it all, if you like. He will not remember any of this."  
"Sounds like a plan. As for me, I have a certain angel I need to find. You okay with staying at their hideout? The prophet is there. I'm sure he's in need of some protection."  
"Yes, but how will I get there? I do not have the strength to use my wings."  
"Take the Impala. You're an angel, I'm sure you can figure it out." Dean grinned and left the angel alone.  
He teleported to his old hideout. It wasn't really a hideout though, more of an office to command the demons he had control over. He stood before an old church. It was large and made of brick. There wasn't really anything special about it. Except the location. Lawrence, Kansas. Dean knew at the time why he had chosen this church. He thought it was ironic. This church was filled with more demons than actual human beings. Even the reverend, Daniel Thomas, was possessed. He had been for years. Daniel had this way of making people trust him. They thought he was honest, but the truth was he was one of the most manipulative bastards Dean had ever met. As he stood on Vermont St. looking at the church, the doors opened. Daniel stepped out and walked to the railing leading to the steps down. He squinted his eyes against the day light.  
"Dean?" He raised his hand to block the sunlight. Once he was sure who was standing before him, Daniel walked down the steps and approached his old commander. "You know, there is a price on your head."  
"I figured as much." Dean glued his eyes to the reverend, suspicion growing in his chest. "You come to collect?"  
"Even if I wanted to, you know I couldn't."  
"And why is that?"  
"Well, for one, your stronger than me. Secondly, even though I hate to admit it, you're a clever little shit. You'd find a way out." Daniel smiled slightly and put a hand on Deans shoulder. "Just like you did with that dumb-ass kid brother of yours."  
"Where's Kylee?" asked Dean, ignoring the comment about Sam.  
"Haven't seen her. Why?" Dean didn't answer and walked up to the doors of the church. He paused and listened for the usual clatter that came from inside. Nothing, not one footstep or voice came from the other side of the door. He sighed and then turned around.  
The reverend was no longer standing by himself. Two demons flanked each side of him. The line was standing in the middle of the street.  
"Thought you said you weren't here to collect?" Dean asked Daniel.  
"Oh, I'm not." He raised his hands and gestured to the demons on each side. "They're here to do it for me." Dean glared at the Reverend with disgust. He smirked in return and with the wave of his hand, the four demons were surrounding Dean. One appeared behind him and pinned his hands to his back. The other three took turns punching his stomach and face. Daniel calmly walked up the steps and stood in front of Dean. With all of his strength, Dean whipped his body around and crushed the man holding his hands behind his back against Reverend Daniel. The Reverend fell backwards, because of the sudden force, into the railing that followed the steps down.  
Now that Dean had his hands free, he clenched them together and plastered his stare onto his old friend. The demons were closing in before him, backing him up towards the door of the silent building. He cautiously pushed one hand into his coat pocket. Dean grabbed a small cylindrical object and forced a smile to flicker across his face. With the flip of his thumb, Dean popped off the cap of the salt gun shell and tossed its contents at the demons before him. They cried back in pain, everyone of them except Daniel. He just stared at Dean with a snarl, his skin sizzling. "Looks like you were right, Daniel." said Dean with a grin, "I am a clever little shit."  
His surroundings changed instantaneously. He was standing in a small motel room. The walls were a faded blue, the floor was green stained carpet, and the bed was neatly made up on the right side of the room. Dean sighed and smiled a bit before he fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands. The pain and ache he felt inside of him ever since that night in the church had finally crippled him. He felt every emotion. Anger, betrayal, guilt, loss... Dean couldn't help but think about Sam. He wanted to make sure he was okay, that Gadreel would keep his word, but Dean knew he wouldn't be able to go anywhere until he could numb the pain inside of him. He tore his hand away from his face and pulled his phone from his pocket. His hands were shaking almost uncontrollably, but the numbers had been punched in. *ring* *ring* *ring* *ring* *ring*  
"What the Hell do you want?" said a female voice from the other end.  
"Bela, I need your help."

***  
Sam opened his eyes and scanned the familiar ceiling of his bedroom at the bunker. "What the Hell?" he whispered. He sat up and rubbed the backs of his hands on his eyes. After the tiny galaxies vanished from his sight, He stood up and tried to walk out his room to find Kevin, and possibly some answers. As soon as he stood up though, He became so light headed he fell straight back onto his bed.  
"Whoa. You okay?" Kevin was standing in the doorway looking slightly concerned, although the rest of his expression was confusion.  
"Ish. How did I get back here?" Sam scratched his head and waited for his answer.  
"You don't remember?"  
"If I did, why would I ask?"  
"Good point. You showed up here around five this morning."  
"What about the trials? Where's Dean?"  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam tried to stand again, he grabbed the end of the bed for support. As he pulled himself up, his head began to spin, but he managed to stay upright.  
"Where's Dean!?" demanded Sam.  
"He got away. You told me that he managed to call some demons and they attacked you. After they freed Dean and beat the holy hell out of you, they vanished."  
"I didn't finish the trails..." said Sam quietly.  
"It's not your fault, Sam. Dean tricked you. And on the topic of your brother, I really think you should come and see what I found." Kevin sounded frantic. He was rubbing his arm with impatience.  
"That doesn't sound good." Sam sighed and rose from his bed. Kevin led him into the main room of the bunker and to the laptop at the end of the table.   
"Alright, what is it? More importantly, what does it have to do with Dean?" Kevin sat down in front of his computer and began to type.  
"I think he changed some people into psychics, like Yellow Eyes did." Sam stomach dropped.  
"How do you even know about that?" Kevins fingers stopped moving and he cautiously looked up at his friend.  
"Uhhh, well..."  
"Spit it out Kevin." said Sam urging him to answer the question.  
"I overheard you and Dean when you had him trapped here. He said he became the new Azazel and, me being me, decided to look up what exactly he meant. Along the way to answers I may have found these books by Carver Edlund." Kevins eyes never met Sams, he kept them cautiously glued to the screen before him. Sam sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingertips, more from annoyance than pain.   
"I need to find every copy of those books and burn them."  
"They're on amazon now, so good luck."  
"Great. So what makes you think Dean changed people into psychics?" Kevin began to type again and opened up a page of weather reports.  
"There was this really weird storm that only happened every three months."  
"Weird how? Other than the timeline."  
"Well, first of all, it only lasted around ten minutes. The thing is though, that ten minutes would contain one hell of a derecho storm. I mean, one of them crossed the entire state of Michigan with winds in the high nineties." Sam pulled out a chair and placed it beside Kevins. He sat down, resting his arm on the back of it.  
"Okay, you've caught my interest. Anything else?"  
"Yeah. During those storms, there were a few power outages. Well more than a few. Whole counties went dark; but, get this, in every one there was a house in the dead center that was unaffected."  
"How many times has this happened?"  
"I could find only thirteen." Sam lay his head down on his arms. He took a deep breath and looked back at Kevin.  
"So you looked up who they were and?"  
"I couldn't find any similarities. It all seems to be sporadic."  
"Again, what makes you think this was Dean?" Kevin looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading.  
"Don't you think it's a bit of a coincidence?" He raised his fist and stuck his thumb out. "Dean tells you he's the new Azazel," Kevin pointed his index finger, listing the evidence, "Random system of thunderstorms and power outages. Except for one house in the DEAD center of each blackout." Sam was looking at his friend with tired eyes. All he wanted was a few hours of peace.   
"Okay, but you said there wasn't any similarity between the people who lived in the houses."  
"There isn't, but there wasn't when Yellow Eyes did it the first time either. Except for the whole six months old thing. But, Dean knows that. Do you really think he would stick to the same pattern?" With a sigh, Sam lifted himself from his chair. He walked to the little refrigerator they kept by the archway into the room. He opened it and grabbed a beer. The can was cold against his palm as he replaced himself in the chair at the table. He popped the can open and took a sip.  
"So, what are the peoples names?" he asked. Kevin moved around some papers he had piled on the table.  
"Uhhh, I wrote them down somewhere... Here!" proclaimed Kevin as he tore out a page of paper from a composition journal. Sam set his drink on the table and took the sheet.  
"You even have their addresses. Nice." He folded the piece of paper and shoved it into his jeans pocket. "I'll go take a look." Kevin put a hand on Sams shoulder as he was about to stand.  
"Wait until tomorrow. You look worse than you did when you got here." Kevin smiled comfortingly. "Go take a nap. You could definitely use it." Sam shrugged off Kevins hand and looked at his friend.  
"I can't wait. If these people are going through the same Hell I went through, I have to do something about it. You know, you read the books. If Dean did change them, it's because they're part of something a lot bigger than what we know now." He took a few steps back. Kevin was staring at him with sad eyes. "Last time it was the Apocalypse. I'm not taking any chances."  
"Well, it's not like I can stop you." They stared at each one another for a moment before Kevin stood and broke the silence. "I'll be here if you need anything, which you usually do."  
"Thanks, Kev." Sam smiled and went to his room to pack.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am really sorry this took so long to update. Secondly, I also apologize for the brief length of this particular chapter. I am trying to tie everything together and it's a lot harder than I originally thought it was going to be. However, I am almost done with the next chapter and it is going to be of much greater length. Hopefully you like it. Once again, I am REALLY sorry this took forever.

"Now what could the famous Dean Winchester possibly need my help with?" Bela teased on the other end.  
"I need blood. Human blood." gasped Dean. He was lying on the floor of his motel room clutching his stomach. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, then a chill shot up his spine. "Now."  
"I'm sure there's plenty of innocent pedestrians ripe for the picking right outside the door, Dean. If you continue to be this lethargic, people are going to question your initiative."  
"Don't play dumb, Bela. It doesn't suit you. We both know that I have nothing left after what happened at that church." Dean clutched his abdomen in agony. He groaned against the pain. "ARE YOU GOING TO HELP ME OR NOT?!"  
"What's in it for me?"  
"What do you want?!"  
"You're a capable monster. When I find it convenient to ask for your assistance, you can't decline my offer."  
"Fine, whatever. Just-" A tearing pain scorched the inside of Deans chest. He dropped the phone, clawing at his ribcage, trying to rip away the misery. He screamed as the fire inside him grew, consuming his inner organs, working its way to the surface of his skin.   
Dean opened his eyes only to see Bela standing over him with an empty syringe. The heat inside him was beginning to settle. He didn't know when he passed out, or for how long. He looked up at his rescuer warily. She reached her hand down to help him up, but he pushed it out of his way and stood; never breaking eye contact with the she devil.  
"I just saved your bloody life, yet you won't let me help you off the ground?"  
"You only saved me for your benefit, Bela." He glanced at her and sighed. "When did you change meatsuits?"  
Bela was possessing a fairly attractive twenty-something year old woman. She had tan skin and vibrant green eyes. Her hair was thick and stained black with a brilliant streak of blue-green, all tied up into a messy bun. She was wearing black skinny jeans, a navy v-neck, and a black leather jacket. Her shoes looked like they were specifically designed to crush skulls beneath them. She smiled slightly and looked down at her vessel. "A while ago. Thought I'd try something new. Also, how many times am I going to have to tell you not to call me that. I have many enemies. Most of which would love to have their dirty little hands on that name. If we are going to keep this up, you will have to call me Aim." Dean wobbled over to the bed and sat down on the corner.   
"Yeah, probably not. Just because you killed the original, doesn't buy you the right to his name. You have to earn that." He stared at her, trying to keep the expressions on his face under control. Bela noticed and raised an eyebrow with a grin.  
"Who was she?" he asked. Bela's grin wavered.  
"A medical student. From Texas." Dean lowered his head and looked at his hands. Minutes passed and the room stayed silent. As Dean stared at his hands, an icy trail ran up his back. There was blood crusted on his knuckles, the skin was split in various places; scars etched into every joint. He thought about how all his life, even the years before his term in Hell, the only thing his hands had ever been good for, was killing.   
"Well, not that this isn't an interesting conversation, but I have a little Hell to raise, so if you'll excuse me." Bela turned and took a step towards the door, but Dean raised his hand and clenched it into a fist encasing her in an invisible grip. He heard her gasp and stood. He walked around to look at her face, into her eyes.  
"What was that?" he pulled his fist tighter when she hesitated to answer. A sick crack rang through the room. Something in Bela's meatsuit had snapped.  
"Now, Dean," Bela choked out, still holding her composure, "You don't really think we were going to wait for you? Metatron thought you were going to be saved. He needed somebody to take your place." Dean kept his icy stare pinned on the other monsters face, he could feel the anger building inside him. He squeezed tighter, another snap.  
"And you just happened to be there? You just happen to be the one he chooses to take my place?"  
"What can I say, the man's got remarkable taste." She grinned, showing her teeth. Dean let the corners of his mouth lift fractionally. He clamped his hand even further together, his finger nails drawing blood from his palm. Bela grimaced as another crunch vibrated through her body. Finally, the pain of her bones snapping was too much and she screamed in agony.   
"STOP!" Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes met Deans, pleading for release. Dean opened his hand and smiled a venomous grin as he watched her collapse to the floor.  
"Tell you what, Bela."  
"AIM." She hissed, wiping at the red line flowing down her chin.  
"That's exactly it." Dean stated matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms behind his back and began to walk in a circle around her slowly. "I'll strike a bargain with you." She stood, wrapping her arm around her chest, and focused on Deans face. "I'll call you Aim, if you report back to me everything Metatron is planning. Everything. It doesn't matter if you think it's significant or not."  
"You really trust me with a responsibility like that?"  
"Fuck no. But, I do know the consequences if you decide to double cross me. And so do you." Dean stopped walking then turned and grabbed her throat in his right hand, lifting her a few inches above the ground. She squealed, scratching at his hand with both of hers, trying to get away from him. He brought her down to his eye level and pulled her head closer to him, so that his mouth was beside her ear.   
"You remember, don't you? All those years deep within the fire." he whispered. "They said you wouldn't break." He could feel Bela tense her body. She tried pulling at his fingers to loosen his grasp. He squeezed tighter, cutting off her air supply. "Well, if I didn't prove them wrong." he chuckled. A predatory grin creeped its way across Deans face. He released her and she landed on her feet, snarling at him.  
"I lasted longer than you did." Bela spat.  
"But, you see," Dean inclined his head, his eyes flashing yellow, and smirked at the lesser demon, "I'm the one who broke you."  
***  
Sam had been driving for nearly six hours. The first name on the list Kevin had given him belonged to Kairi Tilmitt. According to Kevins notes she was 15 years old and lived in Devils Lake, North Dakota. Sam rolled his eyes, apparently the demon version of Dean still had the sense of humor of a twelve year old.   
A loud buzz rang through the car. He kept one hand on the wheel as he dug through his pockets looking for his phone. An unfamiliar number flashed with the Colorado area code. He slid the answer icon across the screen, bringing the device to his ear. "Hello?"  
"Sam?" answered a gravelly voice.  
"Cas?!" The Impala slowed as Sam pulled to the edge of the road. "Where the Hell have you been?! I've prayed to you for the past couple days, why didn't you answer?"  
"I couldn't hear your prayers. Sam," Cas took a breath and sighed, "it's my grace. That was the last ingredient for the spell."  
"The spell?"  
"It was what Metatron used to cast the angels from Heaven."  
"Why would Metatron want to cast the angels from Heaven?" asked Sam incredulously.  
"He told me it was revenge for driving him away from his home." The line stayed silent for a moment. A semi truck flew past Sam, causing the Impala to tremble.   
"Sam, I'm sorry." He could hear the desperation in his friends voice. "It seems that whenever I try to help, I just make things abundantly worse."  
"Yeah, well join the club. So what about your grace? Did you get it back?"  
"No. Metatron sentenced me to live my life out as a human."  
"Wait, so where are you?"  
"I met an angel, named Hael. I tried to help her, but her intent was to possess me."  
"I'm guessing Hael isn't a problem anymore?" The line was quiet. Sam could hear Cas sigh on the other end.  
"Sam, before Hael died she told me that the other angels blame me for The Fall. Some are looking to kill me."  
"Okay Cas, we can deal with it. But right now you need to get to the bunker. That's the safest place."  
"I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"Angels are hunting me Sam." said Cas fiercly. "They are looking to kill the angel that threw them out of their home. That was me."  
"No. It wasn't Cas. Metatron tricked you. You thought you were helping."  
"As I always do. I also believe there is a popular saying about the path set with good intentions."  
"Look, we can work it out. Just get to the Bunker."  
"I can't do that. I refuse to put you in more danger."  
"Cas-"   
"I will call you when I fix things."  
"Cas, wait! Damn it! Let me help you!."  
"Keep an eye out for Dean. I think he had some part in this as well."  
"CAS!"  
"Goodbye, Sam." The line went dry. Sam squeezed his phone in his hand as he pushed down his anger. He took a deep breath and placed the device back into his pocket. Too many questions were bouncing around in his head, but one in particular was burning an imprint into the front of his brain. What did Dean have to do with the angels falling? And how did Cas know about it?  
Sam put the Impala into gear and continued to drive to his original destination, although his thoughts always brought him back to the phone call.

 

Sam pulled into the unfamiliar neighborhood, looking for the right address. He looked at Kevins notes once more. "Okay, Kelly Avenue. Kelly Avenue." He dragged the words out of his mouth as his eyes danced across street signs looking for a match. "Kelly Avenue!" He exclaimed. Sam turned the wheel and pulled the Impala onto the correct street. He slowed when the red flashing lights of an ambulance met his vision. He parked moderately close to the white vehicles. Close enough to see the address of the house they were in front of.   
"Well, shit." he said to himself. The ambulances were parked in front the Tilmitt's home. He saw two paramedics push themselves out the front door of the older house. They were pushing a gurney with a young girl on it. Her eyes were closed, bloody bandages were wrapped around her head, and she had an oxygen mask on. A woman with dirty blonde hair came rushing out of the house and ran to grab the girls hand.   
"Kairi, you're going to be okay sweetie! Everything is going to be all right!" Her face was flushed and black streaks stained her cheeks where the makeup had washed from her eyes. She followed the gurney into the back of the ambulance. The vehicle pulled away and Sam followed. He took a left hand turn onto 7th Street and it was a straight shot to the hospital. He flew past the others cars, trying to keep up. The ambulance turned into the emergency lane in the hospital parking lot. Sam watched as the gurney was pushed out of the back of the van followed by what he assumed to be Kairis mother and the paramedics. Nurses filed from the building, some went to her mother, others went to Kairi, pulling her out of Sams sights.  
He let only a few minutes pass before he began to dig through the box of I.D's he kept in the glove compartment. He grabbed the one marked North Dakota State Police, made sure the demon knife was in his inside coat pocket, and walked into the hospital. The moment he entered the building a woman rushed past him, She was wearing purple scrubs and carrying something in a small box. He calmly walked up to the service desk and cleared his throat. The man held up his index finger as he finished his telephone conversation. He put the phone onto the receiver and looked up. "Sorry 'bout that. How can I help you?"   
"Not a problem, I just need you to tell where I can find Kairi Tilmitt." The man drew his poofy eyebrows together, questioning Sam.  
"Sorry, only family is allowed right now." Sam held up the badge and glared at the man.  
"I only have a couple questions for her mother and then I'll be out of here."  
"Oh, uhh. Let me check." He turned to the computer on his desk and began to type. "Well, Kairi is in surgery, but her mom," He moved the cursor and clicked, "yeah. Her mom should be in the fourth floor waiting room."  
"Thank you." Sam made his way towards the elevator. As he approached the lift he saw the woman in purple scrubs again. Her red hair was in a half fallen out braid and the box she was carrying looked like it had been dropped. The dark circles under her eyes clued in that she hadn't slept for a couple days. "Do you need any help with that miss?" he asked her politely. She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to face him.   
"Umm, no thanks. I can handle it." They stood for a moment waiting for the doors to open and stepped inside.  
"What floor?"  
"The fourth."  
"What a coincidence, me too." He pressed the button marked four and smiled at the woman. She smiled shyly back at him. "I'm sorry to bother you, but when is the last time you had any sleep?" he asked, concerned. She gave a quick grin and then looked at the floor.  
"Uhh, it's been a while. I was supposed to be sleeping right now actually, but this girl came in and she had a self inflicted bullet wound to her head. I guess it was pointless for me to be in the operating room because she was declared brain dead within the first ten minutes of the operation."  
"That's awful." He gave a short sigh.  
"It is, but what's worse is somebody has to tell her mother."  
"I wouldn't want to be that person."  
"Nobody wants to be that person." The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Sam smiled and let the woman go before him. When he stepped out, immediately he heard a woman trying to keep her sobs under control. He looked to his left and saw Kairis mother sitting in a chair with her head in her hands. Sam stuffed the badge into his pocket and walked towards her.  
"Ma'am? I'm sorry to bother you but, are you Mrs.Tilmitt?" She sniveled and craned her neck to look at Sam. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from the recent tears.   
"Look, I don't want to talk to anybody right now. Could you just go?"  
"I'm a grief counselor for the hospital. I just want to make sure you're alright."  
"I just lost my daughter, I am anything but alright." She began to cry again. Sam took the seat next to hers and placed a comforting hand on her back. Sobs rattled through her body.  
"I know you're hurting right now, I know what it feels like to lose a family member-"  
"I didn't lose a family member, you dumb shit! I lost my daughter. It was my job to protect her and I couldn't even do that!"  
"What do you mean?" Mrs.Tilmitt let her head fall. She shook it slightly, then lifted it and ran a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face.  
"Ever since the attack she hasn't been the same."  
"The attack?"  
"Okay, sir, I'm sure you mean well but, I would like to be left alone to grieve. If you want to help me get me some anti-depressants."  
"Sometimes all you need to do is talk about it." He cringed at that line, because that's the exact opposite of what he did when Dean died. He drank away the pain. Until Ruby came back and made him sober up. From the alcohol anyway.  
"Typical therapist." She sighed and wiped at her tearing eyes. "She was attacked when she was 7. Some guy jumped her when she was walking home from school."  
"That's awful. Was she okay?"  
"For the most part. She was the lucky one. She was walking with four of her friends and he just killed them. He snapped their necks like toothpicks. What kind of monster kills four innocent little girls?"  
"Did they ever catch the guy who did it?"  
"No. He's still running around. Probably laughing at how he hasn't been arrested. Sick bastard." She stayed silent for a while. Sam suspected that she was trying to control her breathing. He could feel her take in one big breath at a time.  
"Ma'am?"  
"God, please don't call me 'Ma'am'. My mother-in-law always demanded to be called that. I hate that bitch. Just call me Faira."  
"Faira, did the attacker do anything to Kairi?"  
"I don't know she never talked about it. She came home and there was blood all over her face. The first the she did when she got inside was throw up. I think some of it got in her mouth. It was the attacker's blood. The police did tests on it but couldn't find a match to it." She began to cry again, tears fell down her cheeks and onto the cold tile floor. "She was never the same after that, you know?"  
"How could you be? Something like that changes a person." Sam took his hand back and placed it in his lap with the other.  
"No, you don't understand. She was always really jumpy and looking over her shoulder. She rarely ever talked. All she did was sit in her room, under the blankets on her bed. I just wanted her to be happy, to get past it. I would get so mad at her. She let this one thing ruin our whole life."  
"You can't really get past something like that, Faira."  
"It was eight years ago! Kairi couldn't let it go. She wouldn't forget about it. She began to have these stupid night terrors. In the middle of the night she would just start screaming. She would always scream 'Get off me, get away!' And then she would wake up and cry."  
"Did you ever talk to her about it?"  
"I tried, but she wouldn't say anything. She wouldn't even tell me what the attacker looked like. She said she didn't remember."  
"Well, sometimes a trauma like that can cause memory loss."  
"Oh no, she remembered. I know she did." Faira's voice was becoming more demanding and angry. "After one of those night terrors she bolted upright and just stared at me. She began to cry and told me 'Don't let the man with the yellow eyes get me, mama.'"  
"Yellow eyes?" Faira rolled her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her.   
"I don't know, she she was hysterical." Sam sat up right and grabbed the woman's shoulder.  
"Faira, did she say anything, I mean ANYTHING about the man with the yellow eyes?" She looked at him wearily.  
"No. Like I said, she was pretty quiet after that." she replied slowly. Sam turned his head and glanced around the room. It was almost empty, there was a man asleep on the couch a few feet away from them. Only one nurse was at the directory desk. A woman sat in a chair on the other side of the room. More specifically, a woman wearing purple scrubs. She had an evil smirk on her face. After she knew Sam had seen her, she got up and walked away.  
"Uh, I hope you feel better. Sorry about your loss." he said as he rushed away, trying to keep the woman in his sight. The nurse turned and opened the door into the stairwell. She stepped inside with a backward glance at Sam. He picked up the pace so he was almost jogging and pulled the door open. The stairwell was cold and quiet except for the sound of footsteps bouncing off concrete walls. He looked around and saw vibrant red hair bouncing just out of view below him. He narrowed his eyes and followed carefully. Step by step he was getting closer to the woman. She was only a few feet in front of him when she opened another door and vanished to the other side. He flung open the door and found himself in a covered parking lot. The nurse had vanished, but the faint stench of rotten eggs coated the air around him.  
"You know, I wasn't expecting you to find them so easily." Sam pivoted on his heel. Standing directly behind him was the woman in purple scrubs. A wicked smirk reached its way across her face and her arms were crossed in front of her chest. "Guess I overestimated you, Sam." Her eyes flashed black. Sam reached into his coat and drew the knife. He held it defensively before him.  
"What are you doing here?" he asked menacingly.  
"Oh you know," She held one of her hands up and flicked her wrist. Sam crashed into the wall behind him, slamming his head into the hard surface. "Just checking up on one of the less favorable." He felt dazed for a few seconds then forced himself to focus on his enemy. She skipped towards him but stopped when she saw what was in his hand. "Now we can't have that." she teased. With another twist of her wrist the knife was pulled from his grasp and thrown across the room. The woman was suddenly right in front of him grabbing fistfulls of his jacket. "I should kill you right here and now." she growled.  
"You should, but you won't or else you would have done it already." He smirked at the monster. "Why is that?"  
The woman chuckled. "Wouldn't you like to know."  
"What did you mean by 'less favorable'?" The demon flashed her eyes back to the brown that belonged to the nurse it was wearing. She let go of his jacket and took a few small steps backward.  
"We all have our favorites Sam. Even your brother." Sam pinched his face into a snarl. The demon laughed. "Oh, yes. It's true. He modified some children. He did the same thing Azazel did to you, only he added his own little twist to the formula."  
"What's all of this for, huh? Another apocalypse? I stopped it one time, I can do it again." he spat. The woman looked at Sam. She twisted her face to mimic concern.  
"Can you Sammy? I mean, Last time you had a few angels to help you. This time, they're part of the problem. Not to mention every angel and demon with a meat suit is hunting down your buddy Cas."  
"I'll manage." Sam pulled on his limbs, but they stayed glued to the stone wall. She was instantly before him again, only a few inches separated them.  
"We shall see." she hissed. He felt her breath rush over his face and he grimaced away from her.  
"Hey, buddy, you can't be in here. This is private parking only." A man was standing in the doorway Sam had entered from. He looked around the room, but the nurse had vanished. Leaving nothing but more questions pounding inside Sams mind, and the putrid smell of sulfur.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, when somebody is thinking I've decided to do this. Example: 'You guys are awesome for even paying attention to this little story.' the author thought as she tried to think of what to write next. Thoughts are only going to have the one little thing surrounding them instead of actual quotation marks. Also, sorry it's taking longer to update. I started college back up so I have that to focus on as well as this.

"I'm stronger than I was. There's nothing you can do to me now." Bela was standing with her head held high. She glanced at the empty syringe on the floor then back to Dean. "And by the looks of it, you need me more than I need you." Dean walked over to the needle and crushed the glass container under his boot. His eyes flicked back to Bela, she was smirking malevolently.  
He gestured down with his hand, "This, this is not a problem. I can handle it."  
"Why would you need to handle it, if it isn't a problem?" she asked. Dean glared at her then took a step forward. Bela instinctively took a step back, watching him cautiously.  
"You say you've changed, yet you flinch whenever I even get near you. I'm no expert, but I'd say you're still scared." He paused and looked at his hands. He curled his fingers to form a tight fist then let his hands relax. "I guess I would be too." The only sound in the room was the distant ringing of a train whistle passing on the nearby tracks. Bela inched towards the door, keeping her eyes glued to Dean.  
"I'll think about your proposal and get back to you on it." she said warily as she placed her hand on the doorknob. She opened it slowly. Dean waved his hand and it slammed shut causing a shriek to slip from her throat.  
"Sorry," he smiled wickedly, "one time deal only." Bela sneered at the demon before her.  
"Well then, it looks as if I've made up my mind."  
"And your decision would be?"  
"Fine. I'll play the Arthur Owens in this little tuss up of yours."  
"Good choice." Dean twisted his wrist and the door to the motel room flew open. Bela moved to stand in the doorway, then peered over her shoulder back at her new commander.  
"I expect a reward for this."  
"I let you live. That's reward enough." With another flick of his wrist, the door slammed shut with Bela- Aim- on the other side. Dean felt his knees shake and he collapsed onto the bed. He could feel the human blood travelling through his body. It made him feel sad and guilty. Guilty for letting Gadreel possess Sam. He barely even knew the angel, only that Metatron had recruited him personally. He didn't even know what for. Then there was the psychic kids he had created. They hadn't deserved that. The sadness and pain of making someone go through that ate a hole away at Dean's heart. He then felt anger strike through him. Why would a demon even care about these things? This shouldn't bother him. It's Sams fault, he turned him into a junkie. A crippling ache clawed it's way past the other emotions and beamed inside of Dean's chest.   
Sam. His little brother. They used to be best friends. They used to have each others backs. Now all Sam wanted was to kill Dean, or worse. Cure him and die in the process, leaving Dean to clean up his mess and mourn the loss of his brother. Again. Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. "God damn it." he sighed. With only a thought Dean was in a new surrounding. He had zapped himself into a hospital room. It wasn't exactly where he thought he would end up, but all he knew is that one of his kids was there.  
The room was a light beige with a white speckled tile floor. There was only one window; it had the blinds drew in front of it so the room was covered in a shadow. Taking up most of the room was a bed. On that bed was a girl attached to too many machines. In the chair next to the bed was a woman who was sleeping with her feet up on the mattress. He looked at the clipboard hanging on the end of the large piece of furniture.  
"Kairi Tilmitt." He whispered, as to not wake up what he assumed was her mother. "I remember you. You, my friend, put up quite a fight for someone so small." He walked and sat down next to her, causing the mattress to squeal under the new pressure. Dean lifted his hand and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You have to believe me when I tell you I didn't know any of this was going to happen." He sighed and looked back to the mother. She was still sound asleep. "I thought I was doing you a favor. Giving you a chance to defend yourself against the real monster in this room." The room wheezed with the sounds of the machines that were now Kairi's lifeforce. "Why would somebody do this to their kid?" He stepped over next to the large machine connected to her. "This thing isn't actually keeping you alive. You're dead. And unless this bitch decides to delve into Crowley's side of things, you aren't coming back." He started pacing in a small circle in front of the door to the room. "Why would you even want to come back? I mean, this place has it's ups, but the downs don't even make it worth it. Right now you're probably up in heaven or whatever. Which I guess is a good thing." He stopped walking and looked directly at the girl on the bed. "I'm sorry, Kairi."  
"Who the hell are you?" Dean snapped his eyes to the source of the voice. The woman in the chair was sitting up, staring at him with hate filled eyes.  
"Alright lady, don't throw a bitch fit. I'm leaving right now."  
"Excuse me?" she whipped back at him. "Who gave you the right to even come in this room in the first place?"  
"Nobody 'gave' me the right. I took it." he countered.  
"Get out. Now!" She screamed.  
"No need to be so loud madam." He flicked his eyes over to Kairi and gave a slight smirk. "Wouldn't want to wake the dead now, would we?" Shock painted Faira's face. Her mouth fell open although she didn't say anything further. Dean took two enormous strides towards Kairi's mother, stopping only inches in front of her. He contorted his face into a disgusted scowl and glared at her. She tried taking a step back, but she tripped on her own foot and fell backwards into her chair. Dean was there in an instant, clutching the arms, leaning in closer to Faira. She gasped and began to scream for help. With a snap of his fingers, Dean muted the woman and flashed a wild grin.  
"Why are you even here Faira?" he scoffed. Faira's mouth hung open as she tried to scream, terror knotted her face into a panicked ball. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as her eyes darted around the room, looking for anything to help her. Dean let out an exasperated huff of air and grabbed her face with his right hand. Keeping her head locked in one place, she was forced to look at him. "You shouldn't be here, with what you did to her." Her eyes had stopped moving and now looked directly into Deans. "Oh, you thought I didn't know?" Dean lifted her from the chair and pinned her against the closed door, letting her feet dangle above the floor. "I know everything. How you beat her, how she was basically your slave until she was old enough to fight back. But even then she wouldn't try. My personal favorite is when you poured bacon grease on her hands for burning your precious breakfast." He squeezed her face tighter and pushed back even harder. Faira's eyes shot open with pain as new tears fell. "Or that time you locked her in the dryer and turned it on, if only for a moment. Although, I have to thank you. If it wasn't for you I would never have found our beautiful Kairi. See, she was so desperate to be taken away from you, I could hear her pain from a continent away."  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Faira managed to choke out. Dean smiled menacingly.  
"Now, Faira, nobody likes a liar." He flashed his eyes yellow and drank in the horror that covered the woman's face.  
"You." she gasped.  
"Yup, 'fraid so." Dean let Faira collapse on the floor and walked over towards Kairi. He ran a hand down her cheek, playing with the ends of her hair.   
"This isn't reality." cried Faira. "This is just a nightmare."  
"You'd be surprised at what thin lines separate the two." He looked back up at Kairi's mother. She was still sitting on the ground in front of the door, her hands covered her face."What do you think you're doing? You don't get to cry over this." Dean said firmly. "This is all your fault. If you had treated your daughter like an actual human being when she was a child, none of this would have ever happened." Faira looked up at the demon with tears running down her face.  
"This isn't my fault!" she screamed. "You did this to her!" She stood and marched toward Dean pointing her index finger in his face. "I never believed her when she said the man that ambushed her had yellow eyes. I thought she was crazy." Dean rolled his eyes and pushed the woman's finger away from his face. "But she was right!" she continued. "You killed her friends. You hurt my daughter. You're the monster that made all of this happen. If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have tried to kill herself!"  
"What can I say? Some kids just aren't cut out for the job." he quipped. The woman rushed at him, raising her fist to swing. Dean scoffed and waved his hand, sending Faira flying into the machines keeping Kairi's body alive. With another flick of the wrist, Dean brought Faira up and pinned her to wall with an invisible crushing force. He sauntered over and leaned in close to her ear. "Did you really think you would get away with what you did to her?"  
"I'm s-sorry." she whimpered. "I prayed and asked for forgiveness. I've been cleansed of my sins."  
"Really think that's going to cut it?" he teased. Dean put his hand around her throat, digging his fingers into her flesh. He felt the warm spurt of blood against his palm. "Enjoy your express pass to the pit." He smiled as he shoved his fingers deeper into Faira's throat, listening to her choke on her blood. He ripped his hand to the side, taking a significant amount of the mothers windpipe with him. Dean watched as the corpse tumbled to the tiled floor. Blood began to pool around her head, gushing from the hole in her neck. Faira's lifeless eyes stared back at him. He looked at his hand; it was dripping warm, scarlet liquid from the fingertips. He mindlessly walked over to Kairi and touched her cheek lightly, leaving a set of bloody fingerprints. 'One down.' he thought. 'One down and twelve to go.'   
***

The events of the day before had Sams mind soaring with the possibilities of what the demon nurse had known. What had she meant when she said Dean had added a twist to the formula? Why would Dean do this? More questions bounced around in his skull but, he had to focus on the task at hand. He had called Kevin only a few hours ago. They talked about what was going on. Sam mentioned how Kairi was already dead, then told him he was going to go after the next person on the list. He could tell Kevin was working on the angel tablet because he only gave short answers to whatever Sam said. The typical "Yeah, okay." and the universal "Got it." made the base for their conversation. Sam had asked if the address was correct for the next victim.  
"Yeah, I triple checked. Apparently he checked himself in." Kevin had replied distantly. With a large sigh of air, Sam ended the call. He stretched his arm over to the glove compartment and popped it open, grabbing the list Kevin had given him. Looking over it again, Sam noticed that six of the addresses belonged to cemeteries. Sams stomach tightened. He carefully folded the paper, while keeping one eye on the empty road ahead of him, and pushed it into the inside of his jacket. With the push of a button, AC/DC roared through the Impala. Sam gripped the steering wheel tighter and pressed the gas pedal further. The sooner he got to the next kid, the sooner he could figure out why this was happening.

 

Sam pulled the Impala to a halt one block away from the hospital. He sat in the drivers seat with his hands on the wheel, staring at nothing. He breathed in slowly until his lungs could hold no more. He reached his hand down and yanked the keys from the ignition, pushing open the door. The air was cold on his skin as he stretched his arms and legs, stiff from the long drive. Sam looked at his watch, 11:47 pm. He glanced up and down the block. There were no pedestrians, which was always a good thing. He walked to the trunk of the Impala, lifting it open. He grabbed his already prepared duffle and closed the trunk. The duffle held a flask of holy water, an extra set of Deans old clothes, a salt gun and a silver knife. In his coat pocket he could feel the weight of the demon blade and his .45 caliber. After making sure everything was locked up, he began to walk toward his intended destination.  
It only took a few minutes to get to the parking lot of the hospital. Sam peered around the side of a car. There was a nurse standing by the door, taking a puff from a cigarette. He slowly moved to the other end of the vehicle. The only way to get to Lyle, was by taking the elevator, considering his room was on the 11th floor. He couldn't help but think that this would be much easier if he had his brother with him. He could just pop in and take Lyle. Three seconds and this would be over with. But, no. Sam was on his own, like usual. He sighed and headed toward the front door of the hospital. As he approached the automatic doors to the ground floor, he smiled at the nurse with the cigarette. She rolled her eyes and looked in another direction. Once inside the building, Sam looked at the directory and headed towards the psychiatric ward.  
***  
Even though it was after midnight, Lyle was awake. He stared at the ceiling wondering if he had made the right decision. Should he have left his mother alone? He could distantly hear other patients screaming. Even though he had only been here for a few weeks, he was already used to the noise. What he wasn't used to was somebody knocking at his door. The sound made him jump and he sat upright in an instant. Nobody was allowed to visit him past 8 pm and the nurses didn't have to make their rounds until four in the morning. He stared at the door to his room. Beneath it you could see a shadow waiting on the other side. A faint clicking sound drew his attention towards the doorknob. 'What kind of lunatic knows how to pick a lock?' he asked himself. Lyle jumped into action and dragged the chair from his desk and shoved it underneath the doorknob. He then crawled under his bed and tried to steady his breathing. Was his mom really crazy enough to try and kidnap him from a psychiatric hospital? The door was pushed open slightly, but the chair stopped it from going any further. Light formed a white line from the ceiling to halfway across the room.   
"Damn it." said a deep voice from the other side of the door, just barely a whisper. "Lyle? I'm trying to help you." Lyle eyed the door curiously. The voice was unfamiliar, but one thing was for sure, it didn't belong to his mother or any of her friends. He slowly crawled out from the bed and searched the room for a weapon. His heart was racing as he realized there wasn't anything he could use to protect himself. "Lyle, I swear, I am not going to hurt you. I just want to talk. Now, I need to get into the room, or the nurses are going to catch me and then I'll be back at square one. Please, let me in." Lyle approached the door. He pushed it closed and removed the chair. He waited for the man on the other side of the door to walk in. When that didn't happen, he pulled the door open himself.   
The light in the hallway blinded him for a second but, as he refocused, he saw a very tall man standing in the hallway. The man was wearing a thick brown jacket over a red flannel. His jeans were ripped in various spots and his biker boots were caked in mud. His hair was almost down to his shoulders and his expression was soft. Lyle took a deep breath and invited the man in his room with the wave of his hand. The man walked in and stood by the window at the south side of the building. "So, you mind tellin' me why I've been woken up to a sasquatch knocking at my door past midnight?" said Lyle, trying to hide his panic. The man smiled and ran a hand through his hair.  
"Well, that's kind of a long story. And, honestly, I don't think you're going to believe most of what I'm about to tell you." Lyle glared at the man suspiciously.  
"Will any of it explain what's been happening to me for the past couple of months?" The man looked at him with surprise written on his face. He just stared at him for a moment, filling the room with a deafening silence.  
"My name is Sam. Sam Winchester." Sam held out his hand for him to shake it, but Lyle just wrapped his arms around himself.   
"Good for you, but that didn't exactly answer my question." Sam lowered his hand and smiled at Lyle.  
"Yes. I think it will help you understand some of it, but I also think I'm going to create more questions than I answer."  
"Fair enough. Tell me what's been going on."  
"First, you have to tell me what you mean by the things that have been happening to you." demanded Sam.  
"Why does it matter?" said Lyle, a little more defensive than he intended.  
"I'm just trying to put things together. It might help me explain it to you too."  
"I can move stuff." He replied hesitantly. "It was little things at first, but I got better at it..." Lyle trailed off. He moved his line of sight to the floor.   
"You can do these things because you were poisoned. With demon blood."  
"Umm, what?"  
"I know, I know. I sound crazy enough to be in here, no offense."  
"None taken."  
"But just hear me out."  
***  
Sam began to explain to Lyle his situation. About a quarter of the way through, the color had drained from his face and at the end he was sitting on the edge of his bed looking like he was going to faint. Sam went to put his hand on the boys shoulder but decided against it, considering he wouldn't even shake his hand. "Lyle, are you gonna be okay? If I need to, I'll call a nurse in here." A small smile made it's way to Lyle's face and he looked up.   
"I think I'll be okay. It's just a lot to absorb all at once, you know?"  
"I do actually. Maybe not to this extent, but I can relate." A moment of understanding quiet passed between them. "So, what do you think. Will you come with me? You'll be a lot safer at the bunker than here."  
"The bunker. The secret society bunker built by a bunch of guys who studied demons and monsters. Which, as it turns out are all real..." Lyle stood up and placed his hands on top of his head. His hair was longer than most. It curled by his ears and was a strange golden blonde. He began pacing in a circle in the middle of his room. His face was flushed and Sam could see him gasping for air. He reached out and clutched Lyle's shoulders. Lyle was only an inch or two shorter than he was. Sam looked into the boys eyes.   
"Lyle, listen to me." He was speaking in a calming but firm tone. "You are going to be okay. Just breathe." Sam breathed in deeply and waited for Lyle to copy him. After a moment Lyle complied and mimicked Sam, breathing in very deeply. They both held that breath for a couple seconds. As soon as Sam released his air slowly, Lyle let his escape from his lungs all at once. Sam loosened his grip on the kids shoulders.   
"Better?" Lyle looked up and panic still distorted his face. He shook his head and began to breathe faster. Sam sighed and released him.   
"HOW CAN YOU BE OKAY WITH THIS? YOU JUST TOLD ME THAT EVERY NIGHTMARE, EVERY BAD DREAM I'VE EVER HAD, THAT'S ALL REAL!? And YOU, you hunt them down for a living?! WHAT KIND OF SANE PERSON CHOOSES TO DO THAT? Didn't you want something better for yourself?! Why didn't you go to college? For, I don't know, law? You seem like you'd make a good lawyer!"  
"I did want something better for myself. I even tried to go to college, but it just wasn't in the cards for me.", Sam looked down at his hands, "And I'm sorry that you've been dragged into it." He lifted his head and looked at Lyle who was looking back at him with pity. Sam straightened himself up and flashed a small smile. "So what do you think? Are you going to come with me, maybe become a Man of Letters?" Lyle was still staring at Sam. He sighed and hugged himself tightly.  
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, it can't be any worse than staying here." Sam sighed with relief. He pulled his duffle around and set it on the bed.  
"Good, but we only have a couple minutes before the nurses come and see what all the shouting was about."  
"I doubt it. We're in the loony bin, there's pointless shouting at night all the time."  
"Very true, but I'm guessing it usually doesn't come from this room." Sam walked to the door and cracked it open. Two nurses were chatting at the end of the hall. He clicked the door shut quietly. "There's an extra set of clothes in my duffle. You need to change. We don't want anybody thinking I'm sneaking a patient out of the psychiatric ward."  
"Yeah, it's not like that's exactly what you're doing or anything." Lyle replied his voice oozing sarcasm.  
Sam watched the door as Lyle changed. When finished, Lyle gave him the okay to turn around. Deans old clothes were a little big, but they fit better than expected. Sam dug through the bag and held the silver knife before Lyle. "If I give you this, are you going to have another panic attack?" He looked up and down again, staring at the blade.  
"Probably, yeah." replied Lyle honestly.  
"That's completely understandable." Sam tucked the knife back into the bag and zipped it close. "I need you to stay close. Like, almost invading my personal bubble close. Okay?" Lyle nodded and stepped fractionally closer to him. Sam swung the duffle onto his shoulder then walked to the door. He looked back at his new companion. "How old are you?"  
"Uh, twenty. I'll be twenty-one in a couple days. Why?"  
"No reason." Sam turned back to the door and opened it slowly.

***  
Lyle felt his heart pounding as he watched Sam checking to see if the coast was clear. His whole life had changed within a matter of minutes. If he took one more step, he would never be able to go back. As Sam slid to the other side of the door, Lyle took a gulping breath and followed him. The instant he was in the hallway, he regretted it. The lights were to bright and he was sure someone had seen him slide from his past reality. Sam was in front of him suddenly, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the hallway. It was hard to keep up with his steps, Lyle basically had to jog. Sam turned and looked at his face. "Relax, just act like you're supposed to be here and nobody will question you." Lyle tried and in the next few steps he gained the courage to carry himself with a little bit of pride.  
The cool air from outside the hospital hit Lyle like a tidal wave. From weeks of being locked up in basically a prison, this was the best gift he could have asked for. He could hear Sam laughing and realized he had been spinning with his arms spread wide in the middle of a parking lot.   
"You keep that up and they'll come out here and admit you again." Lyle couldn't help but laugh. And he laughed with all of his heart poured into it. He laughed until his eyes were sprouting tears and he was gasping for air.  
"I can't help it." He managed to say between his chuckles. "It's just been so long since I've been free to do whatever I want!" He began to spin again, but Sam grabbed his arm.  
"Sorry kid, but you're going to have to spin in circles somewhere a little further down the road. We aren't out of the woods yet." Lyle nodded and they began to speed walk away from the hospital. As soon as they turned the corner though, the hospital was out of sight and Lyle began to laugh again. He looked back at Sam; he too was even laughing a little. Lyle turned back around to see where he was going and ran straight into a body. This body was as tall as he was, but more muscular. He had short blonde hair and green eyes.  
"Oh, sorry man. I just wasn't watching where I was going." Lyle took a step back to let the man pass but he just stood there. Sam was instantly standing next to Lyle. He grabbed his shoulder and threw him several feet back.  
"What are you doing here?" said Sam menacingly.  
"Same as you, little brother." The man looked over Sams shoulder and at Lyle. Sam quickly moved to block his line of sight. "Well, probably not the exact same really. It's more of a drive-by than a kidnapping." The man had his hands tucked into his leather jackets pockets. He was smiling like he knew exactly when the world was going to end. It looked to Lyle though, like he would be the one to end it.  
"Dean, leave." Dean took a step closer and glared at Sam.   
"Or what? You going to try and cure me again? Didn't you learn the first time? I don't want to be cured. I like the disease." Lyle saw Sam flinch back and tried to connect the dots. Dean materialized right next to Lyle and put a hand on his shoulder. "Now if you don't mind, I-" The discharge of a weapon pierced the air and blood sprinkled onto Lyle's face. He jumped backwards and landed on his back. Dean looked down at the bullet wound in his chest. It was leaking blood down the front of his shirt. He sighed and lifted his head to look at Sam. He raised his hand gesturing towards the wound. "Was that really necessary?" Lyle saw Dean try to walk forward, but it was like his feet had been planted in concrete. Dean locked eyes with his brother. Sam smirked.  
"I think so, yeah." Sam walked towards Lyle and helped him to his feet. He pulled a bandanna from his pocket and handed it to him. "You've got a little blood right there." He said as he pointed to Lyle's right cheek and up toward his temple. Lyle numbly took the bandanna and wiped at his face.  
***  
Dean saw Sam hand the kid a rag. He then turned and walked towards Dean with a scowl. "I saw you crack Dean. Something in you is human, no matter how deep you try to bury it." Dean tried to back away from Sam but, he was still stuck.  
"What did you do to me?" He asked lacing his words with venom.  
"You're knight Abaddon should've told you about this little trick." Dean looked at Sam and gritted his teeth. Realization hit him like a brick wall.  
"Oh, you little shit. Devils trap carved in the bullet?" Sam smiled lightly and went back to help Lyle. Although Dean was happy to see Sam again, this is not the situation he imagined. He squirmed but the bullet in his chest kept him from moving. It was a strange feeling. He tried and pleaded with his limbs to cooperate, but they stayed frozen in place. Sam walked back in Deans direction, Lyle under his arm. "Careful Sammy, this one looks like he might faint. You tell him the entire truth or just the important bits?" Sam glared at Dean and began to walk towards the Impala at the end of the street, dragging Lyle with him.   
"I'll be back in a minute!" He shouted directing his voice towards Dean. "Don't go anywhere!" Sarcasm dripped from his words. Dean laughed slightly.  
"I couldn't leave you if I tried!" he yelled in return. Dean watched Sam as he carefully put the kid in the passenger seat of the Impala. He smiled a bit. After everything he had been through, Sam was still decent enough human being to put this random kid before revenge on a demon. As he made his way back, Dean let a smile grow on his face.  
"Why are you even here Dean? It's not like you care about what happens to these kids."  
"What makes you think that? I did create them."  
"Because seven of them are already dead. Most of them were suicides. If you cared, you wouldn't have done this to them."  
"That's just natural selection at its best, Sammy." Sam stared at Dean, anger rolled across his face. "I know you remember what it felt like. Drinking demon blood. You miss it. You miss the power, the strength it gave you." hissed Dean.  
"How do you even know about that? You were in Hell." growled Sam.  
"Oh by the time that happened, I was already one of the best torturers down there. I even rose above Alistair. I got all the intell I wanted about you." Dean smiled with pride. A fist hit the side of his cheek and he went crashing down. He landed on his back and, because he couldn't move, stared at the stars in the sky. Sams face soon blocked out his view.  
"I'm going to fix this Dean. If it's the last thing I do, you are not going to be a demon for eternity." Sam tugged on Deans arm, pulling his body over his shoulders.  
"I have to say, this is a little degrading." Dean was looking at the ground as Sam carried him back to the car. As they approached, he could see Lyle in the front seat, still holding the bandanna to his face. "You might want to check up on that kid, I think he's going through shock." Without a word, Sam popped the trunk open and placed Dean, none to gently, inside. Dean looked up at his brother. "Do I really have to stay in the trunk AGAIN? C'mon little brother, you can trust me." He saw Sam smirk and then he was encased in darkness.   
***  
Sam placed himself in the driver seat after locking Dean in the trunk. He looked at Lyle in the passenger seat. His face was paper white and his deep brown eyes were focused on nothing. Sam grabbed the hand that was holding the bloody rag. He lowered it and took the cloth. "Are you going to be okay? I can take you to the hospital, it's not that long of a drive." he joked. Lyle just slowly turned his head to face Sam. His mouth was partly open and fear was written in the lines on his skin.  
"I-I, umm I think I'll b-be okay. I just n-need a minute." Sam waited patiently as Lyle tried to control his breathing. About ten minutes later Lyle gave the go ahead to start the car. So that's exactly what Sam did. As he began to pull away from the curb Lyle shot his glare towards him and he paused. "WHAT WAS THAT THING!?" screamed Lyle. Sam could just picture Dean in the trunk snickering to himself.  
"That was a demon." he replied as calmly as he could. "That was actually the demon who poisoned you." Lyle just stared at Sam.   
"Why did it seem like he knew you?" Lyle asked still breathing heavily.  
"Well, uh..." Sam ran a hand through his hair, "that's kind of a long story." he glanced up to see if that was an acceptable answer. Lyle was glaring at him. Apparently it wasn't. "Look, I'll tell you how I know him when we get you someplace a little safer. As soon as we are back at the bunker, I'll explain." Lyle fell back against his seat and looked out the window, resting his head against his hand propped up on the door. Sam looked at his watch. 1:52. He sighed and pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found Kevins number. He pressed the call button. Four rings passed and it went to voice-mail. "This is Kevin, leave a message."   
"Hey Kev, It's Sam. I got Lyle and we're on our way back. We ran into a little bit of a problem so don't freak out when I get there." Sam pressed the end call button. He looked at Lyle who had fallen asleep. The tune of Led Zeppelins "Ramble On" came in the form of a quiet whistle from the trunk. Sam smiled and began the journey back to the bunker.


End file.
